The Virginia State Lottery was going to hold a drawing on April 25, 1827, for the benefit of the Dismal Swamp Canal Co.

Whole tickets were $4, half-tickets $2, and a quarter-ticket could be purchased for $1. The grand prize was $10,000 and more than $100,000 in prize money was going to be awarded.

The lottery was part of an overall strategy by the company to raise funds to improve the then-22-mile-long Dismal Swamp Canal, a human-made waterway connecting the Albemarle Sound to the Chesapeake Bay that was completed in 1805.

Those improvements included creating the Northwest Canal, which was “built on the line of a waste ditch from the 1820s” and connected the Dismal Swamp Canal with the headwaters of the Northwest River. From there, the river empties into Currituck Sound on the coast, near the Virginia-North Carolina line, a 1973 report from the Canal Society noted.

Water to maintain the needed depth for navigation on the Dismal Swamp Canal and the Northwest River Canal was diverted from Lake Drummond in the Great Dismal Swamp. Those waters had traditionally drained though slow-moving creeks and rivers that emptied into Currituck Sound. That had been the case since opening in 1805.

The canal is often considered to be the oldest operating canal in the United States.

New Currituck Sound closed for the final time in 1828, changing the northern end of Currituck Sound from a saltwater to freshwater estuary, an event largely credited to the changes the Dismal Swamp Canal created in the flow of water.

“In 1828, the Atlantic inlets into the Currituck Sound closed due to the diversion of water in the Dismal Swamp and shifted the sound from salt-water to freshwater, upsetting the oyster and salt water fishing industries and changing commerce in the region,” Lago Mar on the Back Bay posted on their Facebook page on Dec. 31, 2025.

In a 1977 study “Coastal Processes and Resulting Forms of Sediment Accumulations Currituck Spit,” the authors note that “The completion of the Dismal Swamp Canal in 1805 undoubtedly also played a role in the closing of New Currituck Inlet.”

But coastal geologist Dr. Stan Riggs is skeptical that the Dismal Swamp Canal caused the inlet to close. The inlets of Currituck Sound are “ephemeral,” he said.

“They open in a storm, and they’re good for a while, and then they shoal back down,” he told Coastal Review. “It’s not the inside waters like down in the Pamlico. The inside waters there (in the Pamlico) play a big part in controlling the inlets and outlets, but up there (in Currituck Sound), there’s not enough water mass to build any kind of a storm surge on the inside.”

There are other factors arguing against the Dismal Swamp Canal closing the inlet that Riggs points to, as well.

With relatively little volume of water surging through the inlet, “it’s mostly the dynamics from outside that are driving that,” Riggs said. “One storm can move sand south, another storm will come along and move sand north. There’s a push and a pull that’s going on and up there. It’s mostly the dynamics of the ocean that are dictating what’s happening.”

And the ocean is getting sand from “a big sand pile off the mouth of Chesapeake Bay” Riggs said. “One of the reasons that we have so much sand up there in the first place is you have to have a source, and that source is the offshore (sand). That inlet closed because nor’easter storms were driving the Chesapeake sands to the northern barrier island.”

Neither the Old Currituck Inlet that would have been on the border of North Carolina and Virginia, nor the New Currituck Inlet just south of Knotts Island were especially useful for shipping.

There was some traffic through inlets for a short time, but William Byrd wrote in 1728 in his “History of the Dividing Line,” that “Navigation is a little difficult, and fit only for Vessels that draw no more than ten feet Water.”

Currituck County had a customs house to handle shipping arriving through New Currituck Inlet, but as author Meg Malvasi wrote in a 2010 “Historic and Architectural Resources of Currituck County 1790-1958” produced for the National Park Service, “One historian described the port as ‘of little consequence, for the few vessels which put in there were small, and the cargoes inconsiderable.’ Whenever one came to the port to unload goods, the port master would simply be there to greet the vessel.’”

The customs house closed in 1819 when Congress did not fund the location.

Even with either Currituck Inlet open, farmers and merchants in northeastern North Carolina lacked access to major seaports, and a canal linking the Outer Banks sounds with Norfolk, Virginia, had been discussed even before the American Revolution.

The earliest ventures were more concerned with draining the Great Dismal Swamp to create arable land than creating a canal. George Washington was a principal in the Dismal Swamp Co. formed in 1763 “for the purpose of taking up and draining a large Body of Land called the Dismal Swamp.” 

The venture failed, but Washington held on to his shares.

After the American Revolution, he and the other shareholders made a second attempt at draining the Dismal Swamp. That, too, failed. But, now familiar with Lake Drummond and how the waters moved through the swamp, he wrote in 1784 to North Carolina politician Hugh Williamson that “I have been long satisfied of the practicability of opening a communication between the rivers which empty into Albemarle Sound (thro’ Drummonds Pond) & the waters of Elizabeth or Nansemund Rivers.”

A doctor and scientist, Williamson, after the British occupied Philadelphia in 1777, fled to Edenton where he was elected to the state legislature and eventually sent to the Constitutional Convention in 1787.

Edenton was an critical port of entry in the 18th century and, according to a 1969 National Register of Historic Places document, Williamson “owned ships that traded profitably between Edenton and the West Indies.” A canal connecting Elizabeth City on the Pasquotank River with Norfolk would draw trade away from Edenton to the much better ports of Virginia.

Nonetheless, Williamson was “the primary advocate of the canal in North Carolina,” historian Mathew Shaeffer wrote about the Dismal Swamp Canal for the North Carolina History Project.

His support was important. The Dismal Swamp Canal Co. needed permission from Virginia and North Carolina to move the project forward. Virginia chartered the company in 1787, and it took three years for North Carolina to follow suit, but in 1790, the state chartered the company allowing construction to begin.

It took a while.

Work did not begin until 1793 on the poorly funded project to create the canal connecting South Mills in North Carolina and Deep Creek, now part of Chesapeake, Virginia.

Most of the work to cut the canal by hand was almost all done by enslaved laborers.

The conditions to dig a ditch through the tangle of swamp vegetation were horrific: extreme heat, venomous snakes, constant danger of flooding, and ice and cold in the winter.

Because the labor force was predominantly enslaved individuals who were often rented from their owners, there are no known records of the deaths that occurred while the canal was being built.

Originally conceived to be 32 feet wide and 8 feet deep, engineering for the project was primitive, French noble Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt wrote after a visit to the canal.

“What must appear surprising, is that, for this canal which already seems in such a state of forwardness, no levels have been taken. It is not yet known what number of locks may be necessary, and even whether any will be requisite,” he observed.

Even after opening to traffic in 1805, the canal did not match the original concept. When the canal was filled and the water was 8 feet deep, larger boats could not use it, although the water was sufficient for shallow-draft barges.

“That would be enough to let the residents of northeastern North Carolina get their produce and lumber to market,” David Walbert wrote for Anchor, a North Carolina online history resource.

Improvements were made, though. The War of 1812 “increased the desire to have a ‘back door’ shipping route between Virginia and North Carolina,” Shaeffer wrote, noting the canal “was not able to provide an adequate alternative route.”

Before the war ended in 1815, the “canal was expanded, and the first recorded passage of a vessel other than a flatboat occurred in June 1814,” Shaeffer continued.

Improvements continued to be made. On May 13, 1830, the Roanoke Advocate in Halifax wrote, “The interesting spectacle of the launching of a new  boat, was exhibited on Saturday … in Portsmouth. Though small, being only about 65 feet length on deck, the plan and purpose of this boat render her an object no little importance; she is intended to ply between this place and Elizabeth City via the Dismal Swamp Canal, and to admit of her passing through the canal without injury to the banks she is to be propelled by paddles in the rear … The name of this handsome appendage to the navigation of our port is the Lady of the Lake.”

The Lady of the Lake was the first steam-powered boat to ply the waters of the canal.

The Dismal Swamp Canal, though, was facing increased competition. Railroads in North Carolina and Virginia offered faster transportation of goods. In 1859 the Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal, or A&C Canal, provided deeper water and a more direct route to Virginia ports for North Carolina goods.

Union and Confederate forces fought for control of the canal during the Civil War, and although the North wrested control from the Confederacy in 1862, the South “did benefit from extensive smuggling via the canal during the rest of the war,” according to the Virginia Places Dismal Swamp Canal webpage.

For a brief period beginning in the 1890s, following upgrades by Lake Drummond Canal & Water Co., which purchased the canal in 1892, the Dismal Swamp Canal carried more freight than the Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal. With the federal government purchasing the A&C to create the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway, the fate of the Dismal Swamp Canal was sealed.

As with part of the Intracoastal, use of the A&C was free, and the Lake Drummond Canal & Water Co. did not have the resources to maintain its canal as well as the federal government could.

The federal government purchased the Dismal Swamp Canal in 1929 and it is currently maintained by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Today, the canal is part of the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway that stretches along the Atlantic and Gulf Coast states, and it measures 19 miles long, 60 feet wide and at a controlling depth of 9 feet, according to the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

PEA ISLAND — Recently I had the pleasure of giving Johnnie Van Willis a tour of the historic Pea Island Cookhouse museum. Johnnie traveled to the museum from his home in Marshallberg, a historic fishing community situated on a peninsula in Carteret County and directly along the shores of the Core Sound.

Marshallberg has been characterized as a sleepy, close-knit village with a rich history of commercial fishing, boatbuilding and family heritage. Johnnie’s great-grandfather was Isaac Van Willis Sr. He’s the surfman sitting in the middle top row in the only known photograph of a “Checkerboard Crew.” This term was used in the U.S. Life-Saving Service, the predecessor to today’s U.S. Coast Guard, to identify racially mixed surfmen crews, crews with both Black and white surfmen, like a checkerboard.

In March 2023, a painting depicting this image was unveiled at the College of the Albemarle – Dare County Campus. Both the photograph and painting are on display at the “Cookhouse,” the shortened name for the museum housed in what once was a building in which surfmen cooked and ate their meals.

As background, Johnnie shares both his middle and last name with his great-grandfather and grandfather, Isaac Van Willis Sr. and Isaac Van Willis Jr. In spring 2018, Johnnie took a road trip with his wife and daughters in search of his great-grandfather’s grave. Through a friend, he had learned it was somewhere near the Marshall and Gussie Collins Trail, a trail named after my grandparents at the Collins homestead. They were part of a small and closely knit community of Black residents of Roanoke Island. It included those connected to the Freedmen’s Colony on Roanoke Island, as well as the rich Native American history here.

Like many Black people in their community, my grandparents were known for their hard work, family, friends, and record of service. They once owned a home and farmland near where the trail is now, including much of the property that surrounds the Dare County Governmental Center and not far from the Virginia Dare Memorial Bridge.

I had noticed when Johnnie and two of his daughters were walking on the trail and struck up a conversation with them. They told me they were searching for the gravesite but couldn’t find it, and they were super excited when I revealed that it was a just a few yards away. Leading them there, I sensed our special connection.

Johnnie did not know much about his great-grandfather, other than that he had worked several years in the Life-Saving Service.

I quickly realized the parallels and differences associated with our two families. My great-grandfather also worked in the service. We both had family members and friends who had lived in small, tightly knit communities and had grown up fishing, oystering, catching crabs, building boats, farming, hunting, and going to church together. Yet, we also shared the understanding that history shows the lives and experiences of our two families were very different, simply because of race. 

Born in January 1873, my great-grandfather, Joseph Hall Berry, began his career initially serving as a “substitute” surfman when the legendary Keeper Richard Etheridge commanded the historic Pea Island Life-Saving Station. He enlisted in February 1902, the same month that my father would do the same 37 years later. My great-grandfather Berry is also the only of several family members who served in both the Life-Saving Service and the Coast Guard. He retired in February 1917 after serving for 15 years.

The trail signage at Isaac Van Willis Sr.’s grave shows he served for 30 years. Given that Life-Saving Service stations that once stretched along coast were spaced about seven miles apart and that our great-grandparents worked at neighboring stations, in all likelihood they knew each other. They could have each lived on Roanoke Island, but I am uncertain where Isaac Van Willis Sr. may have lived. They also likely participated in joint rescues. Before motorized equipment was available, these rescues were especially difficult and dangerous, often requiring the manpower of several stations.

Today, Johnnie still chuckles when he recalls how we met. When I realized who he was, the first thing I told him was to wait a few minutes, that his visit was important and I needed to I grab a pen and piece of paper. Yet, as we stood talking, I realized that, other than knowing his great-grandfather spent several years in the service, Johnnie knew little about him. He died when Johnnie was just a small child.

Johnnie knew more about his grandfather, Isaac Van Willis Jr., had who worked in the U.S. Lighthouse Service at the Cape Lookout Lighthouse.

In 2018, I also knew little about Isaac Van Willis Sr., and the story of Checkerboard Crews. Yet, each time I looked at the gravesite, I sensed he was important. His prominent marker, which includes the Life-Saving Service emblem and information about his wife on the opposite side, has always intrigued me. I was delighted a few days ago to receive a call from one of Johnnie’s daughters telling me that she wanted to bring her father back to Roanoke Island and to visit the Cookhouse. The trip was quickly planned. Johnnie and his daughters were thrilled to see a framed copy of the 1910 photograph and the vibrant oil painting of the same, each showing Isaac Van Willis Sr. They had never seen either image before. The discovery even brought tears to one granddaughter’s eyes.

I also made Johnnie aware of a letter that I had discovered about Isaac Van Willis Sr. several years ago. I promised to search for it in the research material I have collected over the years. At the time he was Surfman No. 1 at the Oregon Inlet station, the position typically next in line to become Keeper. Although I haven’t looked at it for several years now, I still recall being surprised to find Keeper Richard Etheridge’s signature on it. He and several others had signed it in support of Isaac Van Willis Sr.’s desire to become Keeper. Before Johnnie left, I promised to search for it and send him a copy.

Likewise, although Johnnie did not have any pictures of his great-grandfather, he had brought along something very special for me to see. He showed me a cherished framed photograph of Isaac Van Willis Jr., a photograph showing him doing work inside the lantern at the Cape Lookout Lighthouse. He promised to send me a copy of the photo when he returned home.

After a day that began with a seafood lunch, then a long visit at the Cookhouse, and ended with a cherished joint return to the Isaac Van Willis Sr. gravesite, I have concluded that our chance encounter eight years ago was destiny, simply something meant to be.

The broader story of Checkerboard Crews is a planned topic for “Cookhouse Chats,” a new initiative for 2026 that started in February. These periodic chats are to provide information on lesser-known stories associated with the history that the Cookhouse represents. Our next planned chat will be announced soon. 

Despite the utility poles connecting the network of overhead cables along the paved, two-lane road and other obvious signs of the 21^st century, Historic Halifax State Historic Site transported visitors to April 12, 1776, during “Halifax Resolves Days,” a weekend commemoration of North Carolina taking the first step toward freedom.

“Today is a huge day for North Carolina. Two hundred and fifty years ago today, the Fourth Provincial Congress of North Carolina met here in Halifax and adopted the Halifax Resolves, the first official action by any colony to declare independence from the king,” Gov. Josh Stein said Sunday afternoon to the more than 300 gathered for the Halifax Resolves Ceremony.

Held under a sizable party tent near the Colonial Courthouse Site, where the 1760s wooden building once stood, the 250^th anniversary ceremony wrapped up the April 10-12 event. Visitors were able to watch living history reenactments, colonial life demonstrations, musical performances, and a ceremony led by the state-recognized Haliwa-Saponi Indian Tribe based in Halifax and Warren counties.

North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources Secretary Pamela Brewington Cashwell introduced Stein before he took the podium.

During her brief comments, she explained that the department is responsible for organizing America 250 NC, the state’s celebration of the 250^th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and Halifax Resolves Days is a signature event of that celebration.

“We will also have a major event at the capitol in Raleigh this Fourth of July titled ‘Capitol 250: North Carolina Freedom Fest.’ We hope that if you don’t have something going on in your local community, that you will join us in Raleigh for another massive event,” she said, then directed the audience to visit the A250 website that details 700 events taking place this year as part of the celebration, from dramatic presentations, festivals, murals that have been painted in various communities.

When Stein welcomed the audience, he encouraged them to see the Halifax Resolves document on display in the new visitor center that officially opened that week. The governor and other state officials made a trip to Halifax April 7 for a ceremonial ribbon-cutting and to view the document that will be on loan from the National Archives until October.

Stein explained that leading up to the delegates meeting in Halifax, there was tension in the colonies between those who wanted to reconcile with the crown and those who wanted to rebel.

Even after the Battles of Lexington and Concord on April 9, 1775, a large portion of the colonial population wanted to make accommodation with England. When the Second Continental Congress met in Philadelphia in July of that year, they did not declare independence. Instead, they petitioned the king for more favorable terms. From 1775 to 1776, “the tide began to turn in favor of rebellion, but that path was by no means a certainty,” stein continued.

Then, Thomas Paine published “Common Sense” in January 1776, the pamphlet that Stein said made a “powerful argument for an independent, democratic nation founded on equality. Truly a radical notion.”

Then on Feb. 27, 1776, “a militia of patriots skirmished with loyalist troops at the Battle of Moores Creek Bridge,” located just west of Wilmington. “The Patriots soundly defeated the Loyalists, putting an end to English rule in North Carolina, blocking an English invasion of the south and lighting a flame of liberty within North Carolinians,” Stein continued.

As these events were taking place, North Carolina’s provincial delegates met with residents across the colony, and brought all those perspectives to Halifax in April 1776 when the fourth North Carolina provincial Congress gathered.

The delegates in the Halifax Resolves detailed their neighbors’ grievances, “or in their words, the ‘usurpations and violences’ committed by the king. They wrote that the ‘king and Parliament of Great Britain have usurped the power over the persons and property of the people, unlimited and uncontrolled and disregarding their humble petitions for peace, liberty, and safety. They made diverse legislative acts denouncing war, famine and every species of calamity daily employed in destroying the people and committing the most horrid devastations in the country.’”

By adopting these resolves, Stein said that these 83 delegates “did something radical, something revolutionary, something patriotic. They unanimously empowered North Carolina’s representatives at the Second Continental Congress up in Philadelphia to vote to declare our nation’s independence from the crown,” he said. “With these Halifax Resolves, North Carolina became the first colony to take any action declaring our nation’s independence.”

Though the document set the colonies on a path of expanding freedom in this nation, Stein acknowledged that the resolves were “far from perfect,” but still encouraged reading the text, even though parts will make the reader “feel very uncomfortable.”

“It’s easy, when you look back at history, to assume some sort of inevitability, like of course, it happened, but this historic action and the fact that it was unanimous was by no means a foregone conclusion,” Stein said, noting that rebuking the world’s greatest superpower “would have been considered treason, a crime punishable by death.”

The colonists depended on England for military protection and economic security. “Failure objectively was likely, and failure could have been fatal,” Stein said. “With these stakes and these odds, this vote for independence was brave and truly incredible.”

The British Empire could have easily subdued a “ragtag militia or a single colony, but a united force at least stood a chance.” With every single delegate voting in favor of the Halifax Resolves, “it was a precursor of the unity that the revolution would require.”

Less than three months later, at the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, “the 13 British colonies, so incredibly diverse and different from one another, declared that we were no longer 13 separate colonies. We are the United States of America,” Stein said.

And while “250 years ago, internal division was one of the greatest threats to our nation’s success. 250 years later, I would venture that that is still true,” Stein said. “There are so many forces seeking to divide us that profit from our distrust for one another. There are so many forces making the American Dream feel out of reach, telling us that our success requires others to fail, and too often, we hear crudeness, not civility and experience division, not decency. It does not have to be this way.”

Americans can chart a different course, lust like our forebears in Halifax, “After all, we are not red. We are not blue. We are red, white and blue,” Stein said.

“We have so much to gain from bridging our differences, not glossing over them, but having the confidence to find common ground and the patriotism to remember that we are all Americans, that we all love this place,” he concluded. “It is a revolutionary idea, and it is the North Carolina way.”

Rep. Don Davis, R-N.C., who represents the 1st District ecompassing 22 northeastern North Carolina counties, was among the handful of officials who spoke in addition to the governor.

Davis said that the day “shines a light on a true treasure from our great state and nation.”

“Right here in eastern North Carolina, 250 years ago, brave souls took courageous steps towards independence. Their actions remind us of our resilience and grit, illustrating what we can achieve together when we unite for common cause. The Halifax Resolves aren’t just a chapter in our history. They are evidence of hope for our future.”

Reprinted from the Ocracoke Observer

Waterfowl memories are woven throughout Ocracoke native Eddie O’Neal’s life.

He recalls redheads, pintails, teal and great flocks of geese on the Pamlico Sound and winter days in sink boxes with old-timers like Thurston Gaskill.

Because of that history and his skill of turning a block of wood into a work of art, he was named featured carver for this year’s Ocracoke Island Waterfowl Festival from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. Friday, and from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday in the Ocracoke School gym.

O’Neal chose the Canada goose as his signature piece, honoring both the bird and the generations of island hunters and carvers who came before him.

“A Canada goose was a real trophy back then,” he said. “Something you showed off with pride and often shared with older neighbors who couldn’t get out to hunt themselves.”

O’Neal graduated from Ocracoke School in 1978 alongside classmates Vince O’Neal and the late John Simpson, two of the founders of the Ocracoke Decoy Carver’s Guild in 2018.

As a boy, O’Neal was constantly on the water.

Like many island youth, by age 12 he was already hunting and fishing around Springer’s Point and on his father’s nearby property.

He fished commercially with his father, Carson, who served in the Coast Guard, and brothers Andy and Albert, working pound nets and gigging flounder.

During his 23 years working for the state of North Carolina, he held a variety of positions: on a dredge crew, building spillways and working heavy equipment from Southport to Knotts Island.

Included in his working career, he also built golf courses, was a truck driver and worked on road paving crews for an asphalt company out of Norfolk, Virginia.

He and his wife Pam also ran the Island Galley restaurant on Ocracoke until damage from Hurricane Isabel (2003) forced them to close.

Although he appreciated decoys, he didn’t start carving as a hobby until around 2008 while living in Virginia Beach. Over time, that hobby “morphed into a full-time job.”

Among his fond memories are watching Wilbur and Clinton Gaskill, older Ocracoke carvers, who turned out small geese flyers and decoys at an astonishing pace. Wilbur could make 15 to 20 decoys a day and sell every one of them on a summer day when the island was far quieter than it is now.

His second cousin, Dave O’Neal, a retired Coast Guard man and renowned carver, has been an important influence offering tips on the techniques and tools of the craft.

Preferring to focus on his own carvings, O’Neal doesn’t collect or trade in other people’s decoys.

When he and Pam retired several years ago, they moved back to Ocracoke, and his carving became a daily practice.

Today, O’Neal does most of his carvings for the Island Ragpicker shop, run by his siblings Stephanie and Albert.

Not just decoys — he crafts shore birds, small flyers, fish, and a variety of decorative pieces that keep the shelves full and his hands busy.

Carving is his “therapy room” — something that keeps him grounded in retirement and balances time with his grandchildren Carter, Kyler, Amaya, Johnny and Angel.

He rarely sells pieces directly, except at some island events.

He prefers to stock the shop or donate carvings to local fundraisers like the Ocracoke Firemen’s Ball auction where his works have helped raise significant financial support over the years.

For materials, O’Neal favors northern white cedar, which he hauls back from a sawmill near Egg Harbor, New Jersey.

He also uses tupelo, sourced from a Mennonite mill near Pink Hill, and some pine.

Large decoys are almost always cedar, while smaller items, like flyers, often come from scrap wood he picks up from around the island, such as from the school that was torn down.

He appreciates cedar’s similarity to local juniper and its fine, aromatic grain. O’Neal shapes his birds with an angle grinder for the rough form, then refines them with a Dremel and extensive sanding, especially on the delicate heads and bills of shore birds.

He draws most of his own patterns by hand and also enjoys building furniture, having made tables and household pieces for family members from barn oak and other reclaimed woods.

This story is provided courtesy of the Ocracoke Observer, a newspaper covering Ocracoke Island. Coastal Review partners with the Ocracoke Observer to provide readers with more environmental and lifestyle stories of interest along our coast.

Part of an ongoing series on North Carolina’s observance of America’s 250th.

As the United States recognizes the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence July 4, 1776, Dare County is celebrating its unique role in American history Saturday with “Liberty, Legacy, and Lift Off in the Land of Beginnings.”

The Dare A250 Faire is a two-event celebration, with the first scheduled for 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday in downtown Manteo. The Star Spangled Spectacular is scheduled for that afternoon from 3:30-7 p.m. at Roanoke Island Festival Park.

“Rooted in a place known as the ‘Land of Beginnings,’ this milestone event honors Dare County’s unique role in America’s story — from the earliest English settlement attempts to the birthplace of powered flight. With a spirit of innovation, discovery and freedom woven throughout, the Dare A250 Faire promises a vibrant and meaningful tribute to 250 years of American history,” according to the county.

Both celebrations are no charge for the public, though the evening program requires those who wish to attend to reserve a spot through the online portal. As of publication, the tickets were all claimed. Those who wish to attend can continue to check the online portal to see if a seat has come available due to a cancelation.

Dare County is the “Land of Beginnings” because it is the location of England’s first attempt to establish a colony in 1587, now known as the “Lost Colony” because more than 100 settlers vanished from the site between arriving and 1590, and the birthplace of Virginia Dare. Dare was the first English child born in the Americas in 1587. The county is also the site of the Wright Brothers’ flight in 1903, the first controlled and powered heavier-than-air flight.

Dorothy Hester, co-chair of the Dare County A250 Committee, explained to Coastal Review that visitors can expect a full day of family-friendly fun in a festive, patriotic atmosphere.

“Downtown Manteo will come alive with a street festival featuring live music, street performers, storytelling, arts and crafts vendors, nonprofit exhibits, and several food vendors,” Hester said. “The celebration continues into the evening at Roanoke Island Festival Park with the Star-Spangled Spectacular, which has officially sold out–an exciting reflection of the strong community interest and support for this event.”

Hester said that the committee has been meeting for more than a year “to thoughtfully plan how our community would mark this historic milestone.”

The Dare A250 Faire emerged as the cornerstone event of that effort, which she said was designed to bring residents and visitors together in a meaningful and memorable way.

“What began as an idea has grown into a true community-wide collaboration among Dare County, local partners, local organizations, businesses, volunteers and sponsors,” Hester said.

Related: Dare County begins America’s 250th commemoration

The Dare A250 Faire was originally scheduled at the Wright Brothers National Memorial in Kill Devil Hills, but was relocated to Manteo and Roanoke Island Festival Park “to allow all aspects of the planning committee’s vision to be included in the celebration,” organizers said in a press release in late February. The park “highlights the area’s rich history as the ‘Birthplace of America,’ with the historic Elizabeth II serving as a meaningful backdrop to the festivities.”

The Elizabeth II is a representational 16th-century English merchant ship from the 1585 Roanoke voyage berthed at the park, where a settlement site illustrates an English military colony from the era.

Hester urged those interested in attending the celebrations to visit DareA250.org/faire for full event details, as well as information about other A250 initiatives, including the interactive map, and additional events taking place throughout the year.

The Dare County committee organizes events under the umbrella of the state’s official celebration, America 250 NC, an initiative of the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

The celebration committee launched earlier this year a passport program and an interactive online map to share the county’s history.

Musical performances

Entertainment begins at 11:10 a.m. Saturday at the All-American Stage in downtown Manteo with Cypress Society Singers & Dancers, representing the Lumbee and Kahtehnuaka Tuscarora Eastern Woodland Native nations.

An opening ceremony follows at 11:45 a.m., then attendees can listen to live music throughout the afternoon, including a jazz performance by Connected, Ruth Wyand to perform roots Americana and the Daniel Jordan Band to play Southern country-rock.

The Dare County All-American Award Ceremony starts at 3 p.m. The ceremony will recognize participants in a variety of categories, including patriotic attire, patriotic pet, most decorated business and boat displays, as well as Dare A250 Scholarship Awards. Participants should report behind the stage at 2:30 p.m. for judging.

Performances scheduled for the Magnolia Freedom Stage feature Ascension Music Academy, Shiloh and Enrique with the Mustang Music Outreach Program, and the OBX Jazzmen.

Street entertainment

Roving patriotic performers will wander throughout downtown Manteo from 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., including stilt walkers, a bubble artist, a juggler and a hula hooper.

Historical interpreters from The Lost Colony, Roanoke Island Festival Park and Chicamacomico Lifesaving Station and more than 60 local artisans and community organizations will be on-site. Several local businesses and restaurants will offer special events and discounts. A list of visitors is available on the event website.

Student musicians from First Flight Middle School and Manteo Middle School will perform on Sir Walter Raleigh Street at noon.

Storytelling stage

The historic Pioneer Theater, 109 Budleigh St., Manteo, is hosting a storytelling series highlighting the people, traditions and defining moments of the Outer Banks.

Moderated by Miles Daniels, the program organizers are billing as “a marquee element of the Dare A250 Faire,” will feature the following four distinguished speakers sharing personal insights and historical perspectives:

• 11:30 a.m. Clark Twiddy: “Vision, Risk, and Reinvention: How the Outer Banks Became a Destination.”
• 12:30 p.m. Robin Daniels Holt: “The Families Who Stayed: Generational Memory and Cultural Continuity.”
• 1:30 p.m. Nancy Gray: “Water, Work, and Survival: The Working Coast of the Outer Banks.”
• 2:30 p.m. Ken Mann: “Stories of the Outer Banks: Voices, Characters, and Coastal Memory.”

Archival film and video presentations will be shown between speakers.

For young artists

Children can add their own touch from 11 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. to a large patriotic painting. Local painter Brad Price is to enhance the artwork before going on permanent display at the Outer Banks Community Foundation. 

Families can also enjoy coloring a rendering of the first governor of an English colony in America, called a “Flat John White,” and festive tablecloths. Placemats that can be colored will be available at participating businesses throughout Manteo. 

Star-Spangled Spectacular Finale

The Star-Spangled Spectacular performances at Roanoke Island Festival Park will begin at 3:30 p.m. with Just Playing Dixieland, followed by an opening ceremony at 4:15 p.m. and an Earth, Wind & Fire tribute by the Ray Howard Band at 4:30 p.m.

The day will conclude with the Dare A250 Grand Finale at 6:15 p.m. with a multimedia patriotic production with a community choir and tribute.

Volunteers needed

With the committee expecting thousands to visit downtown Manteo and Roanoke Island Festival Park for the two events Saturday, there’s a need for volunteers to help oversee parking areas, serve as a friendly point of contact for guests, and to ensure everything runs smoothly in each designated lot, according to the county.

“No special experience is required, just a welcoming attitude and a willingness to help,” and volunteering is a way to “be part of a once-in-a-generation community celebration,” organizers said.

Volunteers can register online for any of the multiple shifts and activities or contact contact Patty O’Sullivan at patricia.o’sullivan@darenc.gov.

Dare County, Manteo, Outer Banks Visitors Bureau, Southern Bank, The Don & Catharine Bryan Cultural Series and Roanoke Island Festival Park are sponsors of the celebration.

This year, the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor wanted to shake things up, get away from what has been their traditional meeting formula, and instead offer an up-close and personal, historically engaging experience.

The nonprofit’s North Carolina Summit invites you to take part in the “Black Church Crawl,” an immersive tour celebrating the history of Black churches that have housed decades of congregants in Brunswick and New Hanover counties.

Scheduled from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. April 18, the tour will allow participants to step within the walls of three historic Black churches, where speakers will delve into the stories of how these cultural landmarks came to be and their significance as spaces of faith, fellowship and community.

“Although you might live in a certain area, you might not be really invested in what’s going on,” said Nora Williams, Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor public relations and marketing campaign coordinator. “We wanted something that was happening in their community and something that they also could get involved in. Of course, anyone is allowed to participate, but we felt like this would be a great way for people to learn more about themselves and their history and the culture.”

The summit in North Carolina kicks off the first of four meetings the commission-led nonprofit holds annually in each of the states in which the corridor spans.

The corridor is one of the largest of the 62 designated national heritage areas in the country, encompassing about 2,200 miles through coastal counties from Florida to southeastern North Carolina.

“We’re one of the ones that primarily focus on people,” Williams said.

The Gullah Geechee are the descendants of West and Central Africans ripped from their native land and shipped to America, where they were enslaved to work on the coastal rice, Sea Island cotton and indigo plantations of Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas.

Their enslavement on isolated coastal plantations and barrier islands helped them retain many of their indigenous African traditions, which remain today through spiritual traditions, arts and crafts, and food.

They even created their own language, Gullah, a mixture of West African dialects and English that is not spoken anywhere else in the world.

Congress enacted the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor and the commission established to oversee it on Oct. 12, 2006, through the National Heritage Act of 2006 with the aim of recognizing, sustaining, and celebrating the Gullah Geechee’s contributions to American culture and history.

The nonprofit assists the four state governments and local governments within those states in interpreting the Gullah Geechee’s story and preserving historic sites, data and artifacts associated with its people and culture.

One of those sites sits just off Cedar Hill Road in Navassa, the first stop of the church crawl, an event that will feature public historian, performance artist and Gullah Geechee’s own Tyanna Parker-West, Wilmington native and WilmingtoNColor founder Cedric Harrison, and Pastor Derrick Parker.

Just last year, a multiyear, more than $1 million effort to restore Reaves Chapel, a one-room church built on the bluffs of the Cape Fear River in Brunswick County by people formerly enslaved at Cedar Hill Plantation more than a century ago, was completed.

The little chapel in Navassa was eventually relocated by its congregation, using logs and a team of oxen, inland on land Ed Reaves, a former Cedar Hill Plantation slave, donated to the church in 1911. The church eventually became affiliated with the African Methodist Episcopal denomination and remained an AME church until its doors closed permanently in the mid-2000s.

Today, it is a tangible testament to those who built it, maintained it, and worshiped in it.

The crawl will continue across the Cape Fear River to downtown Wilmington, where Chestnut Street Presbyterian Church, the oldest African American presbyterian church in North Carolina, and St. Stephen African Methodist Episcopal Church continue to welcome congregants.

Services have been held at Chestnut Street Presbyterian Church for more than 150 years since it was erected during the third great awakening, a time in the United States of religious activism and social reform that occurred from the late 1850s to the early 20^th century.

Roughly a third of a mile away, congregants have filled the pews in St. Stephen AME Church’s current sanctuary since its completion in 1886. The building that stands at 501 Red Cross Street today replaced the original, simple wooden chapel whose members, about 1,500 by 1879, had outgrown its sanctuary.

“The congregation of the popular church was a powerful influence on the community and the state,” according to the North Carolina Department of Cultural and Natural Resources.

When President William Howard Taft visited Wilmington in 1909, he stopped at the church to make a speech to African American schoolchildren.

Williams said in a telephone interview last week that heritage corridor officials chose to hold the church crawl in the Wilmington area because the nonprofit organization wants to preserve and celebrate the Gullah Geechee community in New Hanover and Brunswick counties.

“We understand that Wilmington and the surrounding area is growing very fast,” she said. “Our goal as the corridor is to preserve and amplify the Gullah Geechee community in these areas, so we felt like this was a great time to highlight that community.”

Registration for the Black Church Crawl is $25, which includes transportation and a lunch featuring the culinary flare of two-time James Beard nominee Chef Keith Rhodes, owner of the wildly popular Catch in Wilmington and Voyce Bistro, his newest restaurant featuring coastal cuisine infused with Caribbean flavors.

“We would love for it to fill up and have as many people as possible,” Williams said of the church crawl. “We’re flexible and we have the ability to provide more transportation if more people are interested.”

She anticipates the organization will hold future events as part of its state summits, adding “We do see this growing and being a more interactive experience as opposed to you come in and it’s a presentation. I think we really want people to experience these spaces, experience the people.”

Part of an ongoing series on North Carolina’s observance of America’s 250th.

When Halifax was founded in 1760 on the south bank of the Roanoke River, the town became a thriving commercial and social hub, largely because of its access to the Albemarle Sound, but as the American Revolution took hold in the 1770s, the town found itself at the epicenter of North Carolina’s move from British rule to independence.

North Carolina’s Fourth Provincial Congress met in Halifax in the spring of 1776, when delegates from across the colony unanimously adopted a document recommending freedom from England that was later called the “Halifax Resolves,” according to state historians.

“North Carolina played a significant role in winning America’s independence,” Gov. Josh Stein said in a statement. “The creation and adoption of the Halifax Resolves on April 12, 1776 was the first official action by any colony calling for independence from Great Britain, forever cementing North Carolina’s place in history as ‘First in Freedom.’”

The state will commemorate the 250th anniversary of the document with “Prelude to Revolution: Halifax Resolves Days,” at the Historic Halifax State Historic Site in Halifax County.

Scheduled for 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Friday through Sunday, there will be living history vignettes, lectures, live colonial music, Tryon Palace Fife and Drum Corps performances, historic trades and weapons demonstrations, a military parade, food trucks, vendors, exhibits, tours and themed photo booths.

The site, which holds a smaller-scale observation each year in April, features several authentically restored and furnished buildings including the 1838 Jail, the 1790 Eagle Tavern and the Underground Railroad Trail. 

Halifax Resolves Days is a signature event for America 250 NC, the state’s official initiative led by the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources to commemorate the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and celebrate the state’s role in the American Revolution.

Signature events like this “honor our state’s pivotal role in shaping the American story. From historic reenactments to cultural festivals, these events will inspire, educate, and unite communities across the state.”

N.C. Department of Natural & Cultural Resources Assistant Communications Director Michele Walker told Coastal Review that some event highlights include a ceremony with the state-recognized Haliwa-Saponi Indian Tribe, a living history reenactment of the Provincial delegates debating independence, the annual Halifax Resolves Day Ceremony April 12 at the colonial courthouse site, and live music and a drone show at dark on King Street.

A full schedule is available on the event website.

As part of “Halifax Resolves Days,” the state will officially open Historic Halifax State Historic Site’s newly renovated visitor center at 25 St. David St., “unveiling a modern facility and a new exhibit detailing Halifax’s significant role in the state’s history,” according to the release.

Starting Friday and continuing through Oct. 6, visitors to the center will have the unique opportunity to view the Halifax Resolves document on loan from the National Archives in Washington, D.C.

This is the first time the Resolves document – the only known copy to exist — is believed to be returning to Halifax since it was sent to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia in 1776. The State Archives of North Carolina holds the journal copy of the Resolves that will be displayed in Halifax this fall, the state said.

“The opportunity to view this 250-year-old document in the place where it was created is a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience,” N.C. Department of Natural and Cultural Resources Secretary Pamela B. Cashwell said in a statement. “The Halifax Resolves is one of the most important pieces of our state’s story — its date is emblazoned on our state flag — and we’re so excited for North Carolinians to see it in person.”

Halifax’s role in the American Revolution

The Roanoke River, which is one of the five largest rivers in the Southeast that flows from the foothills of the Appalachian into the Atlantic Ocean, begins in Montgomery County, Virginia, enters North Carolina in Warren County and flows through Halifax, Northampton, Bertie, Martin, Washington counties, before emptying into Batchelor’s Bay of Albemarle Sound, according to state documents.

English colonists from Virginia in the early 18^th century settled in the Roanoke River Valley and began farming the fertile land. In the following decades, a plantation system evolved that relied on slave labor to grow wheat, corn, peas, tobacco, and other staple crops for markets outside of the colony.

At the behest of the merchants, Halifax was founded in 1757 to use to their advantage the river’s access to the Albemarle Sound and its ports. Though a smallpox epidemic in 1758 stalled settlement, the town was settled in 1760 as the seat of Halifax County, which was designated Jan. 1, 1759. There were nearly 60 houses and public buildings at the time.

“This new town was at a major crossroads between North-South trading paths between the American colonies and West-East trading paths between the coast and the interior of the state. With this advantage, the small town quickly became a major trading center and river port for good moving between the backcountry, the plantations, and Virginia,” the state continues.

Not long after, the town became the backdrop for monumental political events during the American Revolution.

After the patriot victory Feb. 28, 1776, at Moores Creek Bridge in Pender County, the battle that effectively ended British rule in the colony, 83 delegates met in Halifax April 4, 1776, for the Fourth Provincial Congress of North Carolina.

Related: Rainy remembrance marks Revolution’s first decisive win

The delegates unanimously adopted on April 12, 1776, the document now called the “Halifax Resolves.”

“The Halifax Resolves were the first official action by any of the 13 colonies to call for independence from Great Britain. It is acknowledged as an important precursor to the Declaration of Independence,” Walker told Coastal Review.

The document gave William Hooper, Joseph Hewes and John Penn, the state’s representatives to the Second Continental Congress, authority to vote for independence. The Second Continental Congress was the governing body for the colonial governments that coordinated resistance to British rule during the American Revolution.

The Fourth Provincial Congress adjourned on May 15, 1776, after appointing a single Council of Safety to rule the entire colony. While the council was meeting in Halifax on July 22, 1776, the group learned that the Declaration of Independence had been signed in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776.

“The council adopted a resolution declaring North Carolinians ‘absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown’,” according to the historic site’s webpage.

Cornelius Harnett, a resident and Revolutionary patriot, was selected for the North Carolina’s first public reading of the Declaration of Independence to the town of Halifax Aug. 1, 1776.

The Fifth Provincial Congress assembled in Halifax that November, and by Dec. 18, the delegation had approved the new state’s first constitution. As its last official act Dec. 23, 1776, the congress appointed Richard Caswell as the first governor of the State of North Carolina.

“This one small town of Halifax saw the adoption for national independence, the first state constitution and the election of the first governor after colonial rule. Clearly Halifax was a front runner for the independence movement in not only North Carolina, but the entire nation as well,” according to the site.

Walker said that this was the state’s big moment in Revolutionary history, and Historic Halifax State Historic Site preserves this important action for all North Carolinians.

Visitor center renovation

Division of State Historic Sites Public Information Officer Terra Schramm told Coastal Review that in 1976, during the nation’s Bicentennial, this visitor center first opened its doors to welcome guests to Historic Halifax State Historic Site, which was established in 1965.

The North Carolina General Assembly appropriated $5.2 million to renovate the visitor center in 2022 and to complete the restoration of the William R. Davie House, a part of the historic site, in time for the nation’s 250th anniversary this year, she continued.

“The renovation of this building is now complete the interior has been thoroughly replaced, new climate control systems installed, the building foundation sealed, a clerestory added to light the lobby, and the conditioned interior space expanded from 4,900 square feet to just over 6,000 square feet,” Schramm said.

Of note, is a specially designed document display case that has been built to meet security and environmental control standards outlined by the National Archives and Records Administration.

“The case will be used to exhibit a rotation of significant historical documents, starting (appropriately) with the Halifax Resolves,” Schramm explained in her email response.

Clearscapes of Raleigh was hired to design and oversee the work, with Calvin Davinport Inc. of Rocky Mount serving as the general contractor. New historical exhibits for the building were designed by Design Dimensions of Raleigh, she said.

Part of an ongoing series on coastal North Carolina’s observance of America’s 250th.

Tensions began to brew between the colonists and Britain in the early 1760s after the Seven Years War, also called the French and Indian War, in North America. The British decided to impose new taxes on the colonies to recoup the funds that went to the war, but instead incited widespread protest.

Britain passed the Stamp Act March 22, 1765, and then in June 1767, the Townshend Act imposed duties on paint, paper, tea and other commodities. British troops attempted to enforce the Townshend duties in Boston October 1768, ultimately leading in March 1770 to the Boston Massacre that left five dead.

The British, to help the struggling United East India Co., passed the Tea Act in May 1773, allowing the company to import and sell tea to the colonies duty-free, undercutting the Dutch who had been smuggling tea in, and creating a monopoly.

Then, on Nov. 28, 1773, the Dartmouth sails into Boston Harbor, and three more ships were expected to arrive, all carrying chests of tea.

Over the next few weeks, colonists met to figure out a way to fight back. On the night of Dec. 16, 1773, around four dozen men impersonating Native Americans boarded the ships and dumped 342 chests of tea into the harbor.

Almost a year later, 51 women in Edenton took a more peaceful approach to protesting the tea tax by drafting a document explaining their boycott. The women committed to no longer drinking tea or wearing British cloth because of taxation without representation and sent the final copy to England.

“This action forms one of the earliest-known political actions written and organized by women in the American colonies,”  the Edenton Historical Commission explains. “The events of the ‘Edenton Tea Party’ today form an iconic moment in our nation’s history, when a community of women used their own voices to stand by their loved ones and risk the wrath of the Crown by protesting injustice.”

The women of Wilmington responded to British taxation with a similar protest in the spring of 1775, though little is known about the gathering to publicly burn tea.

Burgwin-Wright House and Gardens Assistant Museum Director Hunter Ingram told Coastal Review that the Wilmington Tea Party is an oft-overlooked event in the final days before the start of the American Revolution.

In the port city of Wilmington, the import of tea had ground to a halt by the spring of 1775.

The Continental Congress had forbidden tea from coming through the colonies’ ports, so it had become a scarce commodity, he said. That is why events like the Boston Tea Party and the Edenton Tea Party were so crucial to the cause of resistance.

“Tea was hard to come by and sacrificing it sent a message to those who were already hurting from the disruption of its trade,” Ingram continued.

The Wilmington Tea Party happened in the spring of 1775 and is only documented in one place: the writings of Janet Schaw, a Scottish woman who was traveling through Wilmington to visit her brother.

“She wrote a single line about her observations of the tea resistance in Wilmington, which she did not support. ‘The Ladies have burnt their tea in a solemn procession, but they had delayed however ’til the sacrifice was not very considerable, as I do not think anyone offered above a quarter of a pound,’” Ingram said. 

While the simple description doesn’t give many specifics, Schaw was clear in what the protestors did, Ingram said. “Burning the tea was unique, and it meant the women of Wilmington, even in the eleventh hour before the outbreak of war, were willing to set a precious privilege blaze in the name of revolution.”

The Burgwin-Wright House is the oldest and largest historic site in Wilmington, comprised of four of the eight remaining colonial structures in town, Ingram said of the house’s importance during the Revolution.

“We have three buildings from the city’s first jail, circa 1744, and the mansion home built in 1770 on top of the main jail building after the prisoners were relocated. It has sat at the corner of Third and Market streets for 256 years, and it has watched Wilmington grow from small-but-mighty port city into a thriving town that was, for a time, the most populous area in the state,” Ingram explained.

“The colonial era in Wilmington doesn’t always get its due, but the surviving home built for merchant and politician John Burgwin can tell that story –– and has been for generations,” said Ingram.

Ingram explained that that the Burgwin-Wright House had partnered with the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution’s Wilmington Ladies Tea Walk Chapter to commemorate the 251st anniversary of the protest with the “Wilmington Ladies Tea Walk.”

The Wilmington Ladies Tea Walk event begins at 10 a.m. Thursday, March 26, at 224 Market St. the program will include remarks from a few historic organizations and officials and samples of a brand-new tea blend by Cape Fear Spice Merchants.

“Guests can walk through the gardens, enjoy a presentation about Janet Schaw and then join members of the Daughters of the American Revolution and the Sons of the American Revolution as they walk, in a solemn procession, to river to burn tea in commemoration of this act of resistance on the eve of revolution,” he said.

The historic home is a good fit for the Wilmington Ladies Tea Walk because the site likely would have been “witness to that solemn procession into history, and the act of resistance that helped give Wilmington a reputation for rebellion even before the war.”

Schaw was also a Loyalist, as was Burgwin, and it’s “likely she would have visited the house during her time in Wilmington. This was a home built for a wealthy guest list, and Janet would have qualified,” he said.

Though the program is offered at no charge, registration is required. Call 910-762-0570 to register.

“If you can’t get in this year, we hope to make it a recurring event through multiyear A250 celebration,” Ingram said, referring to the state’s official celebration of 250 years of independence, America 250 NC, a program under the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

Part of an ongoing series on coastal North Carolina’s observance of America’s 250th.

The patriot victory over loyalist forces at the Battle of Moores Creek in the early morning of Feb. 27, 1776, set North Carolina up to be one of the first colonies to vote for independence from British Rule.

That bloody battle in a Pender County swamp is considered the first decisive win of the American Revolution and is commemorated every year with a wreath-laying ceremony by the National Park Service and regional partners at Moores Creek National Battlefield.

This year, the commemoration was expanded to two days, Feb. 27-28, and anchored the weeklong inaugural First in Freedom Festival held Feb. 21-28. Taking place at historical sites, museums and other locations in Bladen, Brunswick, Columbus, Duplin, New Hanover, Onslow, Pender and Sampson counties, the festival was supported by the state’s official celebration of independence, America 250 NC, under the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

The weekend was both somber and celebratory, with a wreath-laying ceremony that began the two-day commemoration, living history demonstrations with both loyalist and patriot reenactors who camped on the grounds near the earthworks built by patriots for the battle, a ribbon-cutting for two new exhibits in the visitor center, and special guest, Diana Gabaldon, creator of “Outlander.”

“Outlander,” both a series of books and a television show, is about a World War II nurse who travels through time to 18^th century Scotland, where she meets a young Highlander. The historical fiction series follows the couple from 1740s Scotland to the colony of North Carolina after the American Revolution.

While rainy conditions on the first day, Feb. 27, prevented a handful of the outdoor programs from taking place, including the weapons demonstrations. The weather, while still gloomy the next morning, allowed the sun to peek out later that day.

“Despite some challenges brought forward by the weather, the event was a great success, bringing over 17,500 visitors to Moores Creek National Battlefield during the event. The success was the result of a wonderful collaboration and partnership among the National Park Service, state and local partners, as well as volunteers, reenactors and living historians,” Battlefield Chief of Interpretation, Education and Volunteers Jason Collins told Coastal Review after the event.

With the steady pitter-patter of raindrops drummed on umbrellas and tents, leaves and puddles in the background, Michael Elston, president general of the National Society of the Sons of the American Revolution, said from the podium during the wreath-laying ceremony that North Carolina was one of the earliest colonies to end royal rule and establish its freedom from Great Britain.

The last royal governor of the North Carolina Colony, Josiah Martin, fled to the safety of a royal naval ship in July 1775 and began plotting his return to power as head of an army of loyal colonists. “Unfortunately for Gov. Martin, he overestimated the support he had in North Carolina,” Elston said. About 1,600 loyalists answered met him in what is now Fayetteville and they began marching to the coast to join British forces.

Meanwhile, patriot forces maneuvered the loyalists toward Moores Creek Bridge, where they had established a strong position.

“The patriots fought on their terms and won an extremely short battle with only one man killed and another wounded in the aftermath,” Elston said, disrupting loyalist recruiting efforts in the state. “The battle put an end to loyalist organization in North Carolina, more than five months before the Declaration of Independence.”

Historic Halifax State Historic Site Assistant Site Manager Frank McMahon, also coordinator of the 3rd North Carolina reenacting group, took the podium as well, and filled in what happened next on the state’s road to freedom.

After the Battle of Moores Creek Bridge, the people of North Carolina elected a provincial congress to lead the colony. The fourth provincial Congress, made up of 83 delegates representing 29 counties and six of North Carolina’s most populated towns, met in Halifax to define a new direction for the American Revolution.

On April 12, 1776, the members unanimously adopted the Halifax Resolves, the date for which on the North Carolina flag acting as a direct reminder of the significance of the event, McMahon said.

The document known as the Halifax Resolves was first read to the members of the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in June of 1776, and “would empower North Carolina’s members of the Continental Congress to collaborate with other united colonies to declare independence from Great Britain,” McMahon said.

McMahon took the opportunity to mention the next America 250 NC signature event, the “Halifax Resolves Days: Prelude to Revolution.” There will be living history activities, historic weapons demonstrations, guest speakers, food and live music at the site southeast just east of Interstate 95 near the Virginia line.

Special to the weekend is the original copy of the Halifax Resolves that was presented to the Continental Congress in 1776, on load from the National Archives. The document will be on display in the newly renovated historic Halifax State Historic Site visitor center.

Part of the afternoon activities was a ribbon-cutting ceremony to introduce two new exhibits in the visitor center.

Collins said from inside the building that the existing displays were installed in 2006 but only tell part of the story.

“A couple of the major parts of our history that we don’t get to tell are the stories of the naval stores and the story of music in this battle,” he said, which are the focus of the two new exhibits.

‘Outlander effect’

A “Weekend with Diana Gabaldon” featured three ticketed events, starting with “An Evening with Author Diana Gabaldon” Feb. 27 in Penderlea Auditorium in Willard, followed by a guided tour of the battlefield early Feb. 28, and concluded that afternoon with a book signing at a private venue. All events were sold out months ago.

During the evening program, Hunter Ingram, the assistant museum director for the colonial Burgwin-Wright House and Gardens, a 1770 structure open to the public, had a conversation with Gabaldon about how her path as a historical fiction writer brought her to Moores Creek and the influence her detailed accounts have had on tourism.

A lifelong and avid reader, Gabaldon said she knew at the age of 8 that she was supposed to write novels, “I just didn’t have any idea how.”

Before trying her hand at writing, Gabaldon pursued a career as a scientist, earning three degrees in the subject, including a master’s degree in marine biology and a doctorate in quantitative behavioral ecology. After she and her husband married, they just celebrated 54^th anniversary, they had three children in the space of four years.

“It was busy, and at this point in my life, and I’m not sure why, probably sleep deprivation, I decided that this was the time to start writing a novel,” Gabaldon said. “Two jobs and three small children and a husband who decided to quit his job and start his own business.”

The inspiration for “Outlander” came from a “really old rerun of ‘Doctor Who’ on public television,” she said. “Doctor Who” is British science fiction television series that began in 1963. 

“I was attracted, in this particular instance, to one of the doctor’s companions, who was a young Scotsman who appeared in his kilt, and I was thinking, ‘well, that’s kind of fetching’,” she explained, leading her to begin researching 18^th century Scotland.

“So that’s when I started writing ‘Outlander’,” she said, explaining that she opted for historical fiction because “it seemed easier to look things up than to make things up.”

She begins “Outlander,” the first book that was published in 1991, with “people disappear all the time.” The line came to her one day but wasn’t the first line she wrote.

“I was thinking, ‘Well, sure, they do, but why do they?’ and then the next couple of lines just sort of evolved. This is one reason. This is another reason. And it got more mysterious, and I was sitting there thinking, ‘Well, why do they disappear?’ And that’s why there’s time travel in these books.”

As for how the characters end up in North Carolina, it’s because she’s following history. After the Battle of Culloden April 1746 in the Scottish Highlands, she said there was no reason for her characters to go back to Scotland and brought them to the Americas. Culloden was the final conflict in the Jacobite Rising and is featured prominently in the series.

“I was following history,” she said and the Highlander migration across the state, which is how colonial historic sites became part of the “Outlander” story.

Ingram praises her detailed description of Moores Creek in “A Breath of Snow and Ashes,” which is set in 1770s North Carolina.

It is not often that there are examples of someone looking at the region’s history from the outside and making it part of something so globally beloved, he said, adding it’s an interesting way to look at not just Moores Creek, but local history in Wilmington, in the Cape Fear region, and across North Carolina.

“A lot of the historic sites have seen an impact from people being interested in ‘Outlander’,” Ingram said.

Gabaldon told the audience that she’s seen similar in Scotland and has been given honorary doctorate degrees for services to country by the University of Glasgow and the University of the Highlands, and the Scottish Government gave her a Thistle Award, which spotlights the tourism industry.

It is being called the “Outlander effect.”

She recounted that when the show first began filming, she was on set for about six weeks in a village near Glasgow. During lunch, she and another writer went to a café to buy sandwiches, but the shopkeeper didn’t have change. He then realized she is the creator of “Outlander,” and explained that she had had no idea what she had done for the economy there.  

Ingram said the effect has been noticeable at historic sites in the region and mentioned the discussion they when she was a special guest on the podcast he hosts for the Burgwin-Wright House called, “Outlander in the Cape Fear.”

He said that during the podcast, they discussed her impact and, “You said you felt it was a lovely side effect of the work that you’ve done, not just here in North Carolina — but we’re kind of biased that, you know, we want to see more people pay attention to our history — and so the fact that we’re all here on the 250th anniversary of Moores Creek today, I think, is a testament to what you’ve done.”

During the tour of the battlefield the next day with Historic Weapons Supervisor and Special Park Uses Coordinator Jason Howell and Gabaldon, Howell said something similar.

“She does a really good job of pulling you into the earthworks in the morning fog,” he said, adding how he remembered being captured by her writing. “And one thing Diana does is, she gets people like you interested in these sites. It’s from her viewpoint and it’s from an alternate viewpoint, but she captures your attention.”

And, as a result, he’s seen Outlander fans come to the site, who admit to not liking history that much but are interested in the battlefield.

More information on America 250 NC events, including details on the Halifax Resolves Days, can be found at america250.nc.gov.

Across from the Pleasant Plains Baptist Church and just outside of Winton in Hertford County, it remained unclear for years whether the historic but badly damaged Rosenwald Pleasant Plains School built in 1920 could be saved.

If it could not, the school building, which replaced an earlier structure built on the grounds in 1866 that may have been the first “Colored” school in Hertford County, would probably be lost.

And then, in September 2024, a driver ran their car off U.S. 13 where the school is, and slammed it into the building with such force that the entire structure was moved off its foundation. The driver was drunk at the time.

With the one corner of the building crushed, the school off its stone foundation, and brick and other debris littering the inside, things looked bleak for the building that the National Register of Historic Places described in a 2016 report “as the only graded public school that served both local African American and Native American students in the Pleasant Plains community … from 1920 to 1950.”

As the report notes, the building was “a very intact, representative example of early twentieth-century rural school design.”

Yet what at first seemed like a disaster, may ultimately have saved the building. The insurance settlement was enough put the structure back on its foundation, repair the roof and exterior and paint the building.

There is, though, still work to be done.

Even before the accident, the roof had been leaking, and a new roof “stopped the problem with the leaks,” Roy Pierce said, who has been monitoring the condition of the school and handling repairs for years. “But before that took place, there were some leaks around those old chimneys, and the water seeped in and damaged some of the wooden ceiling.”

The ceiling needs repair, but it is just one of a number of problems pushing the cost of bringing the building back beyond the means of the Pleasant Plains Church, which owns the building and property.

Pierce pointed to the windows that have been boarded up to prevent vandalism. He explained that when restoration experts looked at the windows, he was told much of the glass was original, as were the frames.

“The estimate on just fixing those windows, was $17,000,” he said.

The land where the school rests has always been owned by the Pleasant Plains Church. The church, founded in 1851, is one of the oldest multiracial houses of worship in North Carolina. When founded, the church was for the nonwhite, free people of color only.

“Permission was granted to organize a church provided no slaves nor their descendants were allowed to join the church. The church was to be solely for the use of free-born people,” Corinne Hare Brummell wrote in Pleasant Plains Baptist Church 150th Anniversary Program in 2001.

At that time, and well into the 20th century, a person of color was anyone who was Black, African American or of mixed ancestry.

It is possible that there was a school associated with the church as early as the 1850s, but early church records were destroyed in a 1941 fire. It is known, however, that as early as 1866 “ten men were responsible for building a school house at Pleasant Plains,” the Hertford County Herald wrote recounting the history of Hertford County.

The first school house was one room, and “the only elementary school accessible to people of color, including African Americans and the descendants of Native Americans, in the Pleasant Plains community,” the National Register of Historic Places notes.

By the turn of the 20th century, it was clear a one-room school house was inadequate and in 1902, the county approved $90 “for the school with a total of ninety-eight students in the three classrooms,” according to the historic places document.

In 1920, hoping to improve the Pleasant Plains school, the community raised $750, the Hertford County school board contributed another $850 toward building a new three-room school, and the community received a $300 grant from the Rosenwald Foundation.

Although about a third of the construction cost of the school was low compared to other Rosenwald schools, Julius Rosenwald, the founder of the fund, “agreed to allow … funds to help rural Southern communities erect schools for black,” the historic places document explained if the community also contributed.

The school was in use from 1920 to 1950. When it closed, students began attending C.S. Brown School in Winton, which was also a Rosenwald-funded school that is now the Hertford County C.S. Brown Cultural Arts Center and Museum in Winton.

Chief Thomas Lewis, chief of the Meherrin nation, began his formal education at the school, but he recalled, “the floor fell in, and we had to go from there to one of the county schools. So by living in this area, we went to C.S. Brown.”

When he got to his new school, he and his brother who was in the second grade, “had to repeat grades,” he said. “I don’t know the reason, but that’s what they made us do.”

Although he attended the Pleasant Plains school for only the one year, Lewis has a clear memory of at least one of his teachers.

“Miss Ardelle Garrett, she was my girl. I brought her an apple every day,” Lewis said.

Garrett who, was born in 1904 in Ahoskie, had a long association with the school. As early as the 1930 census, Garrett is listed a teacher in a public school on the census form. And “the North Carolina Education Directory in 1939 notes the school with three teachers, including Ardelle Garrett, the principal,” according to the historic places research.

As a teacher, Garrett seemed to have had an impact on all her students.

“My father’s 96 and he talks about Ardelle Garrett to this day,” Lewis said.

There are other memories of what the school was like as well. Lewis mentioned that in the morning “we had people designated to go to the coal power and get coal, because that’s how the classrooms were heated.”

There is also a mention in the historic places report that Lewis recalled using “the outhouses in back of the school.”

There was a strong sense of community among the families surrounding the Pleasant Plains community.

“This stretch of highway, at one time you could leave Winton and drive to Ahoskie, and you knew that was Roy’s house and Thomas Chavis’ house, and whoever’s house. Back then, we knew everyone,” said Dr. Terry Hall, Pleasant Plains Church deacon, in describing U.S. Highway 13 that passes the church.

Yet if the C.S. Brown School was a larger and more modern school, it still took the community keep it going.

“There were a lot of fundraisers,” Lewis recalled. “They would sell cakes and pies to buy band uniforms and football equipment, all that kind of stuff.”

“They used to show movies. You could pay 15 cent and go see a movie,” Pierce added.

Although the school did not have the resources the white schools of the county had, what it did have were very good teachers.

“The teachers were good. We had people from here that went on to colleges and did well,” Hall said. “I think in some of the competitions, they used to have debates and stuff like that. They did good.”

In 1968, Hertford County Schools began the process of consolidating their schools and for the first year, student attendance was optional.

“It was part of what they called freedom of choice. I wanted to try to get a new experience. So I transferred (to Ahoskie High School),” Pierce said. Pierce graduated from Ahoskie High School in 1968.

The greater opportunity that was offered by the white schools may now be playing a role in how difficult repairing the Pleasant Plains School has become.

“We’ve gotten into an older population and people have gone into different professions,” Hall said. “Years ago, Thomas and his father and other people that did carpentry … they would have been buying the materials would have been all that would have cost us.”

“It’s like my younger brother, he said, ‘I’m leaving here because I’m not doing nothing with my hands,’” Lewis said. “And he moved to Roanoke Rapids.”

By all accounts, it was bitterly cold in the wee hours of Feb. 27, 1776, when loyalists, soaked to the bone from enduring days of rainfall, began a 6-mile march through swampy muck and dense brush in present-day Pender County to seize a patriot camp on the west bank of Moores Creek Bridge.

The move to confront the patriots at the Black River Road bridge that crosses Moores Creek was an unplanned step in a larger strategy for England to recapture North Carolina, a plan British Royal Governor Josiah Martin coordinated when he lost control of the colony and was exiled in the first half of 1775, according to the National Park Service.

After Martin convinced his superiors that his plan to raise an army of 10,000 and march to the coast to join with British forces would restore royal rule to the colony, he began recruiting at Cross Creek, now known as Fayetteville, in early 1776.

He ended up with 1,600 loyalists, mostly Scottish immigrants, marching east, but patriots thwarted their attempts to reach the coast.

By the end of February, the last direct route to Wilmington that the patriots hadn’t blocked was the sandy and narrow Black River Road.

Patriots knew that Moores Creek Bridge was the last defendable position and got the upper hand by arriving there first.

When the loyalists arrived Feb. 26, 1776, they offered the patriots a chance to forgo the battle and pledge allegiance to the crown, which the patriots declined. The loyalists had sent a scout to get a read on the patriots’ plans. The scout reported the troops were vulnerable, and loyalists decided to attack.

The loyalists left camp at 1 a.m. the next day to hike the 6 miles through backcountry to the patriot encampment, only to find it abandoned.

Unbeknownst to the loyalists, the patriots had moved camp the night before to the east side of Moores Creek Bridge, knowing that was the only way to cross the creek to continue along Black River Road to Wilmington.

The patriots were lying in wait, cannons and muskets ready, hidden behind earthworks they built on a ridge overlooking the creek.

Loyalist Lt. Col. Donald McLeod led about 50 loyalists to the bridge around 5 a.m., only to discover it partly dismantled. Planks had been removed and those that were left were slathered in soap and tallow.

Undeterred, McLeod was confident he had enough men to attack. The commander drew his weapon “and exclaimed, ‘King George and Broadswords.'”

The small group charged, not expecting around 1,000 patriots to be hidden behind the earthworks just 30 feet away until McLeod, and more than two dozen other loyalists, were fired upon and killed instantly.

“With McLeod, the Loyalist commander at the bridge, now dead, the attack stalled, and the remaining Loyalists gave up and retreated into the darkness,” the park service explains.

“This battle marked the last broadsword charge by Scottish Highlanders and the first significant victory for the Patriots in the American Revolution,” the park service website states.

“In the days that followed the battle, the resounding victory echoed though the colonies, and a new hope was born. On April 12, 1776 the Patriot leaders in North Carolina signed the Halifax Resolves, a document that gave the delegates of the colony sent to the Continental Congress the right to vote for Independence. North Carolina would become the first colony to take such action.”

Related: Battle of Moores Creek Bridge virtual program Feb. 19

Now preserved, the grounds are the centerpiece of the 88-acre Moores Creek National Battlefield, which is celebrating the 250 years that have elapsed since that significant battle.

“This year marks the 250th anniversary of the Battle at Moores Creek Bridge, the first decisive patriot victory in the American Revolution and the moment that has set North Carolina on the path to becoming the first colony to call for independence,” Superintendent Matthew Woods told a handful of journalists during a recent press conference.

Woods, along with other project partners, invited media to the site to explain details about the inaugural First in Freedom Festival taking place Feb. 21-28. The weeklong regional celebration is a coordinated effort of eight counties to commemorate the 250^th anniversary of the battle and the subsequent signing of the Declaration of Independence in July 1776. 

The anniversary is a “milestone, not only for this park, but for American history,” Woods continued, and the festival is a way of using this moment to shine a broader spotlight on the people, the places and the stories that define the state’s role in American history. 

“Over the course of the week of the North Carolina First in Freedom Festival, historic sites, art institutions and community partners across eight counties will come together to interpret more than 250 years of history through both heritage and the arts, culminating here at Moores Creek National Battlefield with a three-day commemorative event,” Woods said. 

Special to the inaugural celebration is a weekend with author Diana Gabaldon, creator of the “Outlander” series. Unfortunately for those who didn’t jump on the tickets when they went on sale in November, the three events with the author are sold out.

“Outlander” is a historical fantasy series about a World War II nurse, Claire, who travels through time, from 1945 Inverness to 1743 Scotland, where she meets Jamie. Both the novels and the show based on series follow their love story across time and then the ocean, when the characters immigrate from Scotland to North Carolina, making stops in New Bern, Wilmington, and Moores Creek, and take part in the American Revolution.

Gabaldon, in a virtual chat during the press conference, explained that she featured Moores Creek because of the importance of the battle for the American Revolution and the Scottish settlement in the colony. “That seemed a very logical place to set part of their story. Also, this is essentially where we began, so to speak. So if we’re going to work through the Revolution with them, it seemed like the just the normal place for them to be.”

More about the festival

Moores Creek Chief of Interpretation Jason Collins explained that the battlefield will welcome on Feb. 26 multiple school groups to experience living history demonstrations. Feb. 27 will begin with a traditional wreath-laying ceremony, followed by living history demonstrations and special speakers, and Feb. 28 is a celebration with music, games, “Freedom” Art Show, food trucks and living history displays.

“To pull back the curtain,” Collins said, there’s typically around 75 reenactors for an anniversary event. “Take that number and multiply it by about two and a half for the number of reenactors we’re expecting for this year’s event. Roughly around 200 — kind of — almost neatly split between loyalists and patrons, which is really exciting.”

Collins said First in Freedom is bigger than Moores Creek. From Feb. 21-28 and throughout the year, there will be activities in Onslow, Pender, New Hanover, Brunswick, Duplin, Sampson, Bladen and Columbus, the eight counties making up the region.

For example, on Feb. 21 is the Historical Society of Topsail Island’s Visit Colonial Topsail at the historic assembly building, living history events at Brunswick Town/Fort Anderson State Historic Site, and a Black History Carnival in Wilmington. 

The following day, Feb. 22, Colonial Faire at Harmony Hall is to take place at 1615 River Road, White Oak, in Bladen County, as well as “North Carolina’s Black Patriots of the American Revolution” aboard the Battleship North Carolina and “Freedom’s Road: the refugee crisis of 1865 in the Lower Cape Fear,” at the Oak Island Library.

Collins continued that for this year’s celebration of the 250^th, First in Freedom Festival has released a companion passport, similar to the National Park Service’s passport program, for the festival.

“Folks are going to be able to visit different sites throughout the counties,” Collins said. At each site, they can have their passport stamped, and there will be different levels of prizes. Participants will need to turn their booklets in by Dec. 31 to receive a prize.

Flying Machine Brewery Sales Manager Allen Denning mentioned during the press conference that the taproom on Randall Parkway in Wilmington is featured on the passport, where the brewery will be serving its First in Freedom Battlefield Porter. The limited-edition beer was brewed using research-based colonial techniques for the 250th anniversary.

Denning explained that hops were hard to come by in the Americas at the time, so they got creative and used plants like spruce tips, he said, and the new beer is a nod to that ingenuity. 

Moores Creek National Battlefield Association President Jim Buell reiterated that Moores Creek was the first decisive patriot victory, and “North Carolina was the first colony to declare their independence.”

Buell said that Woods, the park superintendent, had the idea for the First in Freedom Festival that “has now sprouted and grown tremendously. And we’re here today to kick it off officially, and then we’re hoping that a lot of people come enjoy it.”

First in Freedom is taking place with the support of America 250 NC. The initiative coordinated under the N.C. Department of Natural and Cultural Resources helps the state’s communities commemorate 250 years of United States history.

Well before, and long after, the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776, Dare County has been the site of pivotal moments in the country’s history.

The historic county on the Outer Banks has incorporated what it calls “the unique contributions of our region to the broader story of the United States” into its official America’s 250^th anniversary celebration, “Land of Beginnings.”

The phrase “Land of Beginnings” comes from the many nationally significant firsts that occurred there, “including the first English colony in the New World, the birth of Virginia Dare, the first Freedmen’s Colony during the Civil War, the first powered flight, and the first transatlantic wireless communication,” Dorothy Hester, co-chair of the Dare County A250 Committee, explained to Coastal Review.

Dare A250 is the county’s official planning committee for America 250 NC, the state’s commemoration effort under the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources. The state-organized celebration is part of America 250, the national U.S. Semiquincentennial Commission that marks the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

“America 250 is about telling the full story of the nation’s origins, and Dare County represents several of the earliest and most consequential chapters in that story,” Hester said. “I am incredibly proud of the many organizations, volunteers, and community members who have come together to create meaningful and lasting ways for people in Dare County to connect with our local history during this celebration.”

The committee rolled out two activities associated with the anniversary earlier this month. The “Land of the Beginnings” interactive map that highlights 28 historic sites and the self-guided Dare A250 Passport Program.

The county is also preparing for the April 18 patriotic festival “Dare A250 Faire: Liberty, Legacy and Liftoff in the Land of Beginnings” at the Wright Brothers National Memorial. Arts and crafts vendors must submit their application to set up by Feb. 1, all other vendors have until Feb. 15. Applications for both can be downloaded from the website.

“As Dare County’s signature event commemorating the nation’s 250th anniversary, the A250 Faire will feature live music, food and beverage vendors, local artisans, historical demonstrations, educational programming, community exhibits and patriotic festivities that highlight Dare County’s enduring spirit of innovation and discovery,” according to the website.

Outer Banks History Center Director and Supervising Archivist Tammy Woodward said that for the past year, she has been the history subcommittee chair for Dare County’s A250 Committee. The center is the eastern branch of the State Archives of North Carolina.

The first project that they were charged with was to draft a timeline of the history of the county dating back to the 16th century, “or as far back as the written record can take us. From that timeline, we selected 28 sites to plot on an interactive digital map with short historical narratives and images for each site.”

The subcommittee members are Kristen Stilson, a GIS analyst for the county, Jockey’s Ridge State Park Ranger Austin Paul, Brian Edwards, associate history professor and chair of the Social Sciences Department at the College of The Albemarle, Meaghan Beasley from Dare County Libraries, and Ladd Bayliss, executive director of the Outer Banks Conservationists.

Stilson creates Dare-themed maps each year for National GIS Day in November, and was asked to tie this year’s annual map in with the A250 celebrations. She used the subcommittee’s timeline of Dare County’s history to design the interactive map that allows users to learn about the nearly 30 sites around the county.

“We chose historic events that highlight the role of Dare County in the formation of our country from the first voyages to the first flight. And also events that celebrate beginnings in Dare County, like our first lighthouses and lifesaving stations,” Stilson explained.

Woodward said that history subcommittee members and volunteers wrote and sourced the narratives and images on the interactive map. The names of the map’s contributors and their associated agencies can be found at the bottom of the map if you scroll all the way down.

“We had writers from many organizations across Dare County, this was huge collaboration,” Stilson said, adding that the sources vary for the write ups and the majority of the photos came from Outer Banks History Center. The history center is the eastern branch of the State Archives of North Carolina, under the N.C. Department of Natural & Cultural Resources.

“My favorite tidbit I discovered was the man that purchased Kitty Hawk Pier because they didn’t serve orange soda and then when he sold it later, he gave the profits to the employees,” Stilson added.

Stilson said that from there, she still needed a way to connect the map that launched in January with GIS Day in November.

“That is when we came up with the passport program” that culminates Nov. 18 on National GIS Day, she said.

The history subcommittee selected from the interactive map the 13 sites that are stops for the passport program, described in promotional materials as “an initiative designed to engage residents and visitors in commemorating America’s 250th anniversary by exploring the many places that have changed the course of history and define Dare County as the ‘Land of Beginnings.’”

At each passport site, participants can scan a QR code to collect a virtual stamp, gradually building a digital passport that reflects the participant’s voyage.

The 13 passport sites are marked on the interactive map and a hint of where the QR code signs are located on the property. Visitors can scan the code to log their visit to the site. 

“Users can explore the county and significant places from their computer or they can get out and explore the places these historical events occurred in person,” Stilson explained about the two tools.

Once the program wraps up on GIS Day, participants will earn certificates based on how many locations they visit.

The following are the 13 stops:

Flat Tops of Southern Shores are unique homes built in the 1950s that reflect the vision of Frank Stick and the early development of the community. “Their simple design and iconic flat roofs remain a symbol of Outer Banks history,” as described by the county in promotional materials.

Icarus Monument to a Century of Flight in Kitty Hawk is “an enduring sculptural legacy to the first century of aviation” according to the monument’s website.

Wright Brothers National Memorial in Kill Devil Hills celebrates when Orville and Wilbur Wright made history in 1903 with the world’s first powered flight. “The memorial celebrates their innovation and the birth of modern aviation,” as county officials described it.

Jennette’s Pier in Nags Head was originally built in 1939 and now serves as both a fishing pier and an educational center for marine science.

Jockey’s Ridge State Park in Nags Head is home to the tallest living sand dunes on the East Coast and has been protected as a state park since the 1970s.

The black-and-white-striped Bodie Island Lighthouse in Nags Head has guided mariners since 1872 and its beacon continues to aid in navigation.

Fort Raleigh National Historic Site in Manteo “preserves the site of the first English settlement in the New World, established in 1587 it’s a place tied to the mystery of the Lost Colony and the roots of America’s story.”

Island Farm, also in Manteo, is a living history site depicting what daily life was like on Roanoke Island in the 1850s. Visitors can experience farming, cooking and traditions of early Outer Banks families.

Bethany Church in Wanchese, built in 1857, is one of the oldest churches on Roanoke Island.

The historic Chicamacomico Life-Saving Station in Rodanthe tells the story of the U.S. lifesaving service, the forerunner of what is now the U.S. Coast Guard.

Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum located at the edge of Hatteras Island highlights maritime history, legends and survival.

Pea Island Cookhouse in Manteo honors the legacy of the Pea Island Lifesaving Station, the only all-Black crew in the United States.

Now a ghost town, Buffalo City at the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge on the mainland was known for its logging and moonshine.

“Through the interactive historical map, passport program, the A250 Faire, special events, and youth-focused activities, we’ve worked to ensure there is truly something for everyone—whether you’re a lifelong resident, a student, or someone discovering Dare County’s story for the first time,” Hester said.

Editor’s note: The following is from historian David Cecelski’s “Working Lives: Photographs from Eastern North Carolina, 1937 to 1947.” The Carteret County native introduced the nearly 20-part photo-essay series earlier this year on his website, explaining at the time that the images he selected from the N.C. Department of Conservation and Development Collection were taken in the late 1930s into the early 1950s of the state’s farms, industries, and working people.

In this photograph, we see a long line of fishing nets drying in the sun on Harkers Island, N.C., in the fall of 1944.

It is hard to see them, but there are two men talking in the midst of the net reels.

The photographer’s notes only identify one of the men: Stacy W. Davis, a local fisherman, charter boat captain, and fish dealer. That’s his fish house and dock on the far side of the net reels and fishing nets.

Capt. Stacy had built the fish house just before the war. He and his brother Leslie also owned the S.W. Davis & Brother Seafood Co. in Beaufort, on the other side of the North River.

The shoreline is beautiful, but in a way the tranquility of the scene belies the great upheaval that was happening on the island just before and during the Second World War.

When I was younger, old timers from Harkers Island often told me that it all seemed to start with the great hurricane of ’33, which is a story in itself and one that I think I’ll save for another time.

But not all storms come out of the Atlantic, and what happened over the next few years turned island life upside down more than any hurricane or nor’easter ever had.

Just a few years after the ’33 storm, in 1936, Harkers Island’s first road was paved. The age of automobiles and trucks was coming.

Three years later, in 1939, electricity arrived on the island, delivered via a submarine cable that ran beneath North River.

The stars would never be as bright again.

A year later, in the latter part of 1940, the biggest thing of all happened: workers finished building the first bridge from the mainland to Harkers Island. The bridge opened to the public a few weeks later.

That was on New Years Day 1941. Many a time, I have heard old timers say that it was the best and worst day in the island’s history. More than anything, it marked the end of one way of life, the dawn of another.

Then, of course, the war came. Young men and women went away to fight in distant lands and on distant seas. On the island, families crowded around radios to follow the news from places that few of us had known existed until that moment. Soldiers and sailors were everywhere.

An Army camp was built on the island. Soldiers and sailors seemed to be constantly coming and going.

During the war, untold numbers of islanders also crossed the new bridge and went out into the larger world to take jobs at shipyards, military bases, and defense factories. Some commuted every morning to defense jobs as close as the Naval Section Base in Morehead City; others moved as far away as the big shipyards in Wilmington and Newport News.

The Great Depression had worn people down, but suddenly there seemed to be work for any and all.

A hundred things about the war changed the island, but few things more than the War Department building the Cherry Point Marine Corps Air Station only 25 miles away in 1942.

Nearly 10,000 men came together at at a remote crossroads on the south side of the Neuse River to build Cherry Point – carpenters, brick masons, ditch diggers, logging crews, railroad builders, and many, many others. Among other things, they laid enough concrete to build what is believed to have been the largest aircraft runway in the world at that time.

Most of those workers were fresh off the farm or right off a fishing boat.

When Cherry Point was finished, people came from all over the country to work there, and most particularly to find jobs at the base’s assembly and repair department, a massive aircraft repair and refitting operation that relied on civilian workers and was usually just called “A&R.”

Those workers included many a Harkers Island fisherman. And when they left their boats and crossed the new bridge, they began a new life in more ways than they possibly could have imagined at the time.

Some of those islanders, my older friends on Harkers Island used to tell me, were saved by that trip to Cherry Point. Others lost.

For the island’s women, the coming of Cherry Point meant, if anything, even more. Because so many men had gone to war, the base employed thousands of women in jobs that would have traditionally fallen to men.

Those jobs ranged from aircraft painters to mechanics, PX and commissary managers to electronics specialists.

My grandmother was one of those women. She lived on a farm in Harlowe, about halfway between Harkers Island and Cherry Point, and she found a job in A&R’s machine shop during the war.

With the opening of Cherry Point, a daughter fresh out of school, perhaps still living with her parents, might suddenly be earning more than her fisherman father and all her brothers put together.

Of course, that changed things. Maybe not right away, but over time.

Likewise, with the coming of the bridge and the war, a lad that had never taken to the water — and there were plenty of young men like that even on Harkers Island — suddenly had a chance for a different kind of life.

I guess what I am saying is that photographs tell some stories, but not others.

Our tranquil scene of fishing nets drying in the sunshine also does not really speak to what had been happening out at sea during the war.

By 1944, things had calmed down out in the Atlantic, but only a couple years earlier, in the first months after Pearl Harbor, the war had seemed much closer to Harkers Island that it did to most of the United States.

Many of the island’s young fishermen had gone into the Navy and Coast Guard, and they were serving all over the world. But the U.S. Navy had also recruited the island’s fishermen for war duty closer to home.

As German submarines torpedoed merchant ships out in the Atlantic, one of the islanders patrolled the beaches out at Shackleford Banks, watching in the surf for the corpses.

Others, when they heard the explosions offshore, had the duty of taking their boats far out into the Atlantic to search for survivors and the dead.

Out in those seas, 15 and 20 miles off Cape Lookout, they often found themselves in a hellish seascape of charred hulls, burning oil slicks and scenes of which few of them would ever speak.

Special thanks as always to my friends at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum & Heritage Center on Harkers Island.

Stepping through the wrought-iron gate flanked by the First Baptist Church of Beaufort and Ann Street United Methodist Church, the Old Burying Ground offers a quiet respite from bustling Front Street in Beaufort, North Carolina’s third oldest town.

The low-hanging branches of gnarled live oaks tangle above most of the 300-year-old cemetery on the 400 block of Ann Street, casting shadows on the worn dirt paths that meander along the seemingly organized fenced-in family plots next to simple headstones wedged like crooked teeth between the ornate, weathered monuments, obelisks and statues.

There’s an area that appears to be an open space near the corner of Craven and Broad streets under a tree that Carteret County native Bill Lewis has determined is the unmarked grave of 13 of his ancestors, including Thomas Lewis Sr., born 1740 and died 1815.

A lifelong historian and genealogist of the Lewis family, Bill recently retired from the defense industry and splits his time between Morehead City and Virginia.

He told Coastal Review during a telephone interview that he has always known where his family was buried in the centuries-old graveyard. The location has been part of his family’s oral history for generations. 

He decided about three years ago, after his father and aunt died within days of each other, to expand on the family history research he inherited from them, and prove to some skeptics that his ancestors were in those unmarked graves. 

The Old Burying Ground

Beaufort, first known as Fishtown, was established in 1709 and the street plans for the town that were designed in 1713, and are still in use. Around 1724, the town deeded the lot to the wardens of St. John’s Parish, the first Anglican church in Beaufort, for the church and, presumably, a cemetery. Though speculation is that the land was used as a graveyard before 1724, documents state.

“The Old Burying Ground grew up around the building used for sessions of the Court and for reading the service of the Anglican Church in St. John’s Parish,” according to the Beaufort Historical Association, which manages the graveyard.

The property was transferred to the town in 1731 when an adjacent lot was added but was full by 1828. The graveyard was enlarged in 1851, 1855 and again in 1894 by the Baptist and Methodist churches that have stood on either side of the graveyard’s Ann Street gate since the mid-1800s. The Methodist congregation’s first building erected in 1820 now houses Purvis Chapel AME Zion Church, on the corner of the Old Burying Ground at Craven and Broad streets, according to the nomination form. 

The graveyard has around 500 marked graves, with about half from before and during the Civil War, which took place between 1861 an1865, 150 between 1865 and 1900, then a handful of 20^th century markers.

“The whole area with its lichen-encrusted stones shaded by great trees is pervaded by an atmosphere of age, peace, and pleasant melancholia that makes it one of the most memorable spots in one of North Carolina’s most picturesque communities,” reads the National Register of Historic Places nomination form submitted in 1974 for the nearly 3-acre graveyard. “The range of tombstone design is quite remarkable, from the primitive grace of the simple cypress slabs to the sober functionalism of the long brick grave covers to the ornate memorials of the Victorian period.”

Visitors can take self-guided tours using a map provided by the Beaufort Historical Association, the nonprofit that manages the graveyard, to see where the girl is buried in the barrel of rum, the monument topped with a cannon for Capt. Otway Burns, who was an American privateer during the War of 1812, the soldier from the British Navy who was buried standing up in full uniform facing England, the grave of a romance rekindled after decades of separation because her father didn’t approve, or the northwest corner, which is the oldest part of the cemetery. 

“The corner looks empty, however a 1992 archeological survey confirmed that there are many graves in this area. It is probable that some of the unmarked graves contain victims of the Indian wars whose skulls were cleft with tomahawks of hostile Coree and Neusiok Indians. It is recorded that in September, 1711 the area had ‘been depopulated by the late Indian War and Massacre,” according to the association. 

The Lewis ancestors

The Old Burying Ground holds “the history of our family roots, where Thomas Lewis, an often-overlooked progenitor, is buried alongside David Lewis and his wife. My siblings and I were captivated by our grandfather Raymond and father’s tales there. The cemetery was our playground, sparking imaginations with stories about our ancestors, including whimsical claims that Thomas was born a pirate and one of the first settlers in Carteret County,” Bill Lewis notes in his family research.

Bill is a native of the Promise Land, which is a neighborhood from 10^th  to 15th streets on the sound side of Morehead City, and a graduate of West Carteret High School. The Promise Land, Harkers Island and Bogue Banks were settled in the late 1800s and early 1900s by Cape Bankers, pronounced Ca’e Bankers, when these fishing and whaling families moved to the mainland after their settlements on Shackleford Banks experienced a series of devastating storms.

In his research, Bill introduces himself as “a proud descendant of Ca’e Banker and Waterman Thomas Lewis Sr. (1740 – 1815),” and he draws inspiration from his late father, Jerry Thomas Lewis (1937 – 2023), “a steadfast Promise Lander and beacon of strength” and his mother, Edna Faye Garner (1938 – 2013), who “came from a determined Salter Pather squatter family.”

His late father was in the military and traveled extensively, but every time they were home in Carteret County, they would visit the cemetery to put flowers on the unmarked graves. “He would say, I want you and your brother and sister to go out here in this graveyard and find Thomas Lewis Sr. Well, my dad new there was no headstones,” he told Coastal Review.

“We embarked on an exhilarating adventure through time as my father took us to a mysterious graveyard, where history whispered through the wind. He paused by an ancient oak tree, excitement gleaming in his eyes, and pointed to an elongated grave. ‘Can you believe this? This is the resting place of your great-great-great-great-grandfather, a son of a pirate!’ His enthusiasm was contagious,” Bill continues. “We were reminded of our family’s rich heritage in Carteret County, where the earliest Lewises settled between 1635 and 1730, helping to shape the community during its formative years.”

Bill said during the phone call that he pored over documents, records and other resources to corroborate the family lore. Once he had substantial proof, he approached the town with the idea to have a headstone installed marking his family gravesite. 

The Carteret County Historical Society oversees the History Museum of Carteret County, where Bill volunteers, and has been asking for donations to purchase and install the proposed 30-inch by 78-inch ledger, which, in this case, is a piece of stone about the size of an interior door the length of a grave, and the 13 footstones expected to be 8 inches by 4 inches.

He told Coastal Review Wednesday that, so far, they had raised around $1,700 and needed close to $5,000 for the simple marker they have designed, and are still taking donations. Call the society at 252-247-7533 for information.

Town of Beaufort Planning and Inspections Director Kyle Garner said in an interview Thursday that he has been working with Bill Lewis for the last year on the proposed headstone.

Bill “has done extensive research,” Garner said, “it’s amazing what he has been able to find.”

Garner added that the graves could have been marked at one time, but the marker could have been wooden and is no longer there. 

Because the cemetery is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, Garner and Bill Lewis have been consulting Melissa Timo, the historic cemetery specialist at the Office of State Archaeology, to make sure the proposed marker wouldn’t degrade the cemetery. 

Timo explained to Coastal Review that the state has limited information on the cemetery and “I don’t believe that the cemetery has been 100% surveyed archaeologically” by ground penetrating radar or similar. 

“There was a limited archaeological survey done in 1991 where they opened shallow trenches in what appeared to be ‘open areas’ in the north-central part of the cemetery,” Timo continued. “No surprise, their work reveal that the area wasn’t free from graves at all. There were dozens of unmarked graves and potential graves,” but the digging was just deep enough to expose the tops of grave shafts and not into the burials or human remains themselves.

Timo said that while this survey doesn’t appear to line up where the Lewis ancestors are, “it is very telling for the possibilities in the section he’s concerned about. I tell people that what’s on the surface in a historic cemetery rarely, rarely matches what’s underground,” Timo explained. “There are probably a great deal more people in that cemetery than we expect. Additionally, since this is an urban cemetery, popular but hemmed in on all sides, we might expect people to be much more tightly aligned than a rural cemetery with plenty of room.”

Beaufort Historical Association Executive Director Michael Tahaney said in an interview that the Beaufort Historic Site is looking forward to including this newly publicized Lewis family heritage and the new headstones on tours of Beaufort’s Old Burying Ground. 

“The watermen and whalers were invaluable to the formation of coastal village settlements that grew into the Carteret County towns of today. I’ve spoken with several of our long-term docent guides who have very little previous knowledge of these unmarked graves. The headstones will be a testament to the family’s legacy,” he said.

The historic Whalehead Club in Corolla, a Currituck Banks landmark, will turn 100 years old next month and ticketed events commemorating the centennial are on sale.

Completed in 1925, the Whalehead Club, the majestic 21,000-square-foot art nouveau mansion and centerpiece of Historic Corolla Park, was completed after three years of construction. Its $383,000 price tag at the time is about $7.1 million in 2025 dollars.

The 33 years that Currituck County has owned the property is the longest period it has gone without changing hands.

After more than three years of negotiations, the county purchased Whalehead in November 1992 from Howco Residential Development Inc., which had foreclosed on the property in 1989. That was after the failure of two savings and loan institutions, which had previously owned the property, according to a 1992 report in the Coastland Times.

Although Whalehead is now again a symbol of wealth and opulence on Currituck Banks, at the time of the county’s purchase, it was dilapidated and a shell of what it had been when construction finished 67 years earlier. Its 1992 price tag of $2.8 million included the building and 28.5 acres, and the purchase was extraordinarily unpopular with county voters. Every commissioner on the 1992 board that bought the property lost their reelection bid after the purchase.

“Most people didn’t understand what we were doing,” Jarvisburg resident Jerry Wright, who was a county commissioner at the time, recently told Coastal Review.

Whalehead was like nothing the Outer Banks had ever seen.

Multimillionaire industrialist Edward Collings Knight built the mansion as a vacation getaway and hunting refuge for himself and his wife Marie-Louise LeBel.

It had an elevator and a basement. Elevators were unheard of here, and the basement was an engineering feat for a building so close to sea level. Two Delco-brand generators provided electricity at all times.

The Knights named their Currituck Banks getaway cottage Corolla Island, a reference to the artificial island that was created by dredge and fill so the ground could support the massive building.

“The main house was erected on a hill formed by the earth dredged to create the moat. The hill made it possible for Whalehead to have a full basement that rests on sunken wood pilings, a feature that is considered extraordinary for a coastline structure,” notes the 1978 Register of Historic Places documentation.

Until 1922, the 2000-acre property had been owned by the Lighthouse Club, one of Currituck Sound’s most exclusive hunting clubs of the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Although there are legends that Knight bought the Lighthouse Club after his wife, who was an avid hunter, was not permitted to hunt because of her gender, there is no evidence to support the claim.

According to a 1986 letter provided by the Whalehead Club and written by John B. Litchfield, Corolla Island was built by a local contractor and the plans for the building were somewhat vague.

“Mr. Knight, who had had training in art, drew the plans for the house,” Litchfield wrote. “He did not, however, include any specifications. I do not know who recommended my father as a builder, or how they got together. At any rate, Mr. Knight contracted with my father, J. A. Litchfield of Poplar Branch, N.C. to build the house.”

Litchfield’s observation that Knight’s plans did not “include any specifications” is consistent with the belief that Knight did not use an architect to design the house, in spite of the project’s complexity.

The Knights stayed at Corolla Island for extended periods over the next nine years, entertaining a number of guests. The last entry Edward Knight recorded was Nov. 24, 1934. Edward Knight died on July 23, 1936, and his wife Marie Louise died three months later.

This was during the Great Depression and Knights’ heirs had no interest in maintaining a vacation getaway and hunting lodge on the Outer Banks. They auctioned off many of the one-of-a-kind Tiffany designs in the houses and other art nouveau objects and started looking for a buyer.

Rep. Lindsey Warren, who represented northeastern North Carolina at the time, told his congressional colleagues about the property, and New York Rep. William Sirovich agreed to purchase it for $175,000. The closing date was to be Dec. 17, 1939, the same day Sirovich died suddenly.

Ray Adams, a Washington, D.C., meat packer with considerable political connections, instead bought the property for $25,000 in early 1940.

It was Adams who gave the property its name.

“According to tradition, in the process of clearing land for the air strip that would facilitate transportation of guests, a whale bone was found which prompted Adams to rename his estate Whalehead Club,” the National Register of Historic Places notes in their documentation.

Although a whale bone may have been found when an airstrip was being built, there is reason to believe the area was already sometimes referred to as “Whalehead.”

An August 1926 article in the Elizabeth City Daily Advance headlined “Currituck Girls Enjoyed Camping Trip” reported that the young women had “just returned from their summer camping trip at Corolla, that part of the beach known as Whalehead.”

Adams had big plans for his newly purchased property. Although interested in hunting, “his major motivation for acquiring the 2000-acre estate was to use it for entertaining the government officials who controlled the contracts that provided the bulk of his business,” according to Historic Register documents.

Adams on Nov. 1, 1940, formed Whalehead Club Inc. with 10 shares mostly held by Adams and his wife.

Knight’s plans for an entertainment center, though, were put on hold when the United States entered World War II and the Coast Guard needed a training and patrol site.

In 1942, Knight agreed to rent the Whalehead Club to the Coast Guard. Barracks were built, which no longer exist. At one time, up to 300 Coast Guardsmen were stationed at Corolla.

Adams, concerned about protecting his property, included a provision that his club superintendent, Dexter Snow, be made a chief bosun’s mate and be stationed at Corolla to look after his interests.

After the war, Adams threw himself into his plans to create a luxury resort on Currituck Banks.

“He was kind of promised a toll road that would go … like a Route 12, but all the way up to Virginia along the beach,” said Whalehead Club Curator Jill Landon. “He wanted it to be like a Myrtle Beach or kind of like an Ocean City, Maryland. We’ve got the plans drawn up with like a Ferris wheel and all sorts of infrastructure up here.”

Using his government contacts, Adams began lobbying for a beach toll road.

Adams’ plans relied on the toll road to make the project feasible, but the concept he had in mind was extensive.

The plans are on file with the Olmsted Archives at Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic Site. Listed as Job No. 10031, Whalehead, the documents drawn for Adams by Olmstead Brothers Landscape Architects clearly show a planned toll road with a 100-foot right-of-way, a yacht basin, shopping center and fishing pier, among other amenities.

The Carolina Virginia Turnpike Authority, or CVTA, was formed, but problems soon emerged.

Dare County Rep. Bruce Etheridge introduced a bill in the House for the “five-year-old beach toll-road project,” reported the April 17, 1953, edition of the Coastland Times.

The bill was doomed. The authority had been given powers of eminent domain, but the state Supreme Court, the article noted, had “opined that the Legislature could not give a company municipal powers nor the right to condemn private land.”

The authority also found there was little appetite in the bond market for a toll road that would cross state lines and require approvals from two states. In December 1954, the Coastland Times reported that “The sponsors of the Nags Head-Virginia Beach toll road still have not sold their bonds.”

The problem, CVTA authorities explained, was “the fact that two separate authorities and two states are involved has created legal problems which must be clarified before the bonds are sold.”

Two years later, in August 1956, it had become clear that the toll road was not going to happen. Adams’ dream of creating a sprawling resort community along the Currituck Banks was never realized.

The last entry in the Whalehead Club log recorded “that Adams died there suddenly at 6:10 p.m.,” according to the Historic Places documentation. That was Dec. 31, 1957.

The heirs to the Adams estate were able to quickly find a buyer. Portsmouth, Virginia, contractors MacLean and Wipp paid $375,000 for the estate and in turn leased the building and immediate grounds to the Corolla Academy.

The Corolla Academy had a clear vision of how the education of young men should proceed.

The Historic Places document quotes from a brochure to parents: “Corolla Academy is the result of the firm conviction that summer study for boys of secondary level is a rewarding and enjoyable experience. The time has passed when American boys can afford to waste the three months’ interval between the end of school in June and the resumption of classes in September.”

It’s not clear if it was location, philosophy or some other reason, but the Corolla Academy closed after three years.

What followed may be one of the more intriguing uses of the Whalehead Club.

The United States was in a frantic race in 1961 with the Soviet Union to be the first nation to land on the moon, and Atlantic Research Corp. was in the thick of it, designing rocket engines for NASA. The Soviet Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, or USSR, existed from 1922 until 1991 in eastern Europe and northern Asia.

The corporation, or ARC, leased the estate from Wipp and MacLean with a $1.25 million option to buy that was exercised in 1964. For ARC, the Whalehead Club was ideal for its purposes.

ARC was experimenting with beryllium as a fuel for the Poseidon rocket engines. As a fuel, beryllium has some real advantages. It’s very powerful and it’s relatively stable, although it is extremely toxic.

It became apparent that beryllium was not going to be a practical fuel, and in 1972, ARC sold the property to local Norfolk real estate developers Kabler & Riggs for more than $3 million. That firm subdivided the property but left the 35 acres around the Whalehead Club building intact.

The building was left vacant for 20 years, but as noted in the Historic Places 1978 report, the building, with its I-beam construction and 18-inch-thick walls, had been “successfully constructed to withstand the most severe coastal storms.”

Obligated to pay off the loan for the 1992 purchase of the property, Currituck County was not able to begin a full restoration of the building until 1999, when 25% of occupancy tax collections could be used.

In 2002, 10 years after the property had been purchased, the Whalehead Club opened to the public.

The original custom Steinway piano was inside and some of the original Tiffany sconces were still intact. Careful research of auction records had enabled the team working on restoration to track down a surprising number of original furniture pieces. By the time it opened to the public, the county had spent more than $1 million in restoring the building.

The Whalehead Club is available for tours. Reservations are recommended and can be made by calling 252-453-9040 ext. 226, at the site or online.

A chance to climb to the top of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse and look over the expanse of uninhabited barrier islands, sounds and the Atlantic Ocean might be in the foreseeable future now that a much-anticipated, multiyear, projected $15 million renovation project is expected to begin this month.

National Park Service officials announced Friday that Stone and Lime Historic Restoration Inc. received the contract and the work that should start soon could take up to three years to complete.

“The Cape Lookout Lighthouse has long stood as a sentinel for mariners navigating the treacherous waters of the Southern Outer Banks. Time and elements have taken their toll on the structure, prompting the National Park Service to initiate a full preservation effort aimed at safeguarding the lighthouse for future generations,” officials said.

The Cape Lookout Lighthouse is a double-walled, 163-foot-tall tower with a spiral cast iron staircase winding through the interior. First lit on Nov. 1, 1859, the structure, which is on the National Register of Historic Places, replaced the 1812 lighthouse that previously stood on the island. The National Park Service established in March 1966 the Cape Lookout National Seashore, which is made up of 56 miles of undeveloped barrier islands in Carteret County.

“This renovation marks a pivotal step in preserving one of North Carolina’s most iconic landmarks,” Acting Superintendent Katherine Cushinberry said in a statement. “The lighthouse is not only a critical aid to navigation but also a symbol of our coastal heritage.”

Cushinberry is in the temporary role following the retirement this summer of the seashore’s previous superintendent, Jeff West.

Chief of Interpretation and Public Information Officer BG Horvat told Coastal Review that the restoration project includes the repair or replacement of the 200-plus metal stairs, handrails, landings, glass panes, windows and doors, plus new paint for the black-and-white exterior, which will allow the original bricks to “breathe,” or allow air to flow throughout the tower, as it was designed.

Stone & Lime has overseen several lighthouse projects for the National Park Service, including the multi-year restoration of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, which is suffering from similar structural and cosmetic concerns, the company said.

The Massachusetts-based restoration company in a June 6 press release announced that it had been selected to manage the Cape Lookout Lighthouse project and will “oversee a variety of historically sensitive repairs that ensure the public will be able to have access to the Lighthouse in the future while fortifying it against the impacts of the ocean environment, especially as hurricanes and other meteorological events growth in strength and frequency.”

Horvat told Coastal Review that the restoration company won the contract because “their bid was the most successful based on the needs of the project, their experience in historic preservation work, and what the park’s needs were to get the work done with high quality and historic preservation in mind.”

Safety issues for the structure are numerous, which is why the public climbing season stopped after an annual inspection of the tower in 2021, prompting discussions about a renovation, Horvat said.

The concerns were first noted during a preseason safety inspection early that year. That’s when staff pinpointed compromised structural components such as stairs and handrails. Engineers were then brought in for more in-depth inspections, resulting in a list of things to consider repairing.

“The lighthouse was built in 1859. The iron components of the tower are all original. In many areas it is corroded away, or deteriorating. For example, some of the landings are bowing. The metal doorway to the gallery at the top has a small hole in it. The handrails and stairs are rusty in several places,” he said. “The list is pretty big considering the age of all this metal that acts like the ‘bones’ of the whole structure.”

While the tower is undergoing repairs, “the biggest thing” visitors may notice is the refurbishing the ironwork of the watch, lantern and dome levels at the uppermost section of the lighthouse, Horvat said.

“The whole top of the lighthouse will come off, and a temporary cap will be placed atop of the lighthouse tower until the refurbishment is complete. Then, the top of the lighthouse will be placed back where it belongs, new and improved, adhering to historic preservation standards,” he explained.

Visitors will also notice that the lighthouse exterior will be stripped to bare red brick — the first time since 1873 — and then repainted with a breathable paint to help stabilize the moisture content of the bricks. 

Although the lighthouse was completed on Nov. 1, 1859, with its original red brick tower, back in those days, the Lighthouse Board “decided that each coastal light would have its own day-mark pattern, allowing mariners a way to note their location during daytime, as each lighthouse displays a distinct flash pattern at night,” he said.

The Bureau of Lighthouses, established in 1852, replaced the Lighthouse Board in 1910. The U.S. Coast Guard absorbed the bureau in 1939, caring for the lighthouse until 2003, when ownership was transferred to the National Park Service.

“In 1873, Cape Lookout Lighthouse was painted with its distinctive black-and-white diagonal checkers, or diamond pattern,” Horvat said. “Since then, there have been numerous paint jobs to brighten up the day-mark pattern on the lighthouse,” and for some of those layers, oil-based paint was used, which doesn’t allow the exterior to breathe and damages the masonry.

The more breathable types, such as water-based paints, “work with the original red brick masonry to allow moisture built up in the bricks to move freely, or evaporate rather than create pockets of condensation within the tower. Trapped moisture accelerates the deterioration of the bricks and lends to the corrosive problems on the interior metals as well,” he said.

Also, there have been various types of cements used inappropriately for patchwork over the years.

“Of course, materials like paint and cement have all changed over the last 166 years,” Horvat said.

Money for the restoration comes from a combination of sources, including National Park Service line-item construction funds, Federal Lands Recreation Enhancement Act revenues and cyclic maintenance funds.

“These resources enable us to enhance and maintain our facilities for the benefit of the public,” Horvat said.

While the lighthouse and the immediate area are closed to the public during the renovations over the next few years, visitors are encouraged to explore the rest of the park, like the scenic beaches, and the cultural historic sites. Interpretive programs and updates on the restoration progress will be available through the seashore’s website and social media.

Editor’s note: Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the state’s coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

Today I would like to introduce a series of photo-essays that I will be publishing here over the next few weeks. Each of the photo-essays — some very brief, some longer — will focus on the working lives of people in eastern North Carolina just before, during, and after the Second World War.

The longest of the photo-essays features 22 historical photographs. In the shortest ones, though, I will try to build a story around a much smaller group of photographs, and sometimes only a single picture.

In all cases, I have based my stories on photographs that are part of the North Carolina Department of Conservation and Development Collection at the State Archives in Raleigh.

Between 1937 and 1951, the department photographers created a collective portrait of the state’s farms, industries, and working people. Some of the photographs were used in state publications or shared with magazines and newspapers. The vast majority, though, have not appeared in print.

Few of the photographs have the kind of artistic qualities that we see in the classic tradition of American documentary photography. For example, in the Works Progress Administration, or WPA, photographs of life in America during the Great Depression.

Nonetheless, I find something extremely compelling about them. Perhaps above all, I am drawn to the way that the photographs take us into fields and factories that are rarely if ever included in the stories that we historians tell about the history of North Carolina.

They are not romanticized images of working people. They are more matter of fact, more hard nosed and grittier.

These are images from down by the railroad tracks. From the warehouse district. From the engine room.

From the fields. From the lumberyards. From the textile mills. In one case, even from an actor’s makeup room.

In many of them, you can feel how hot it was, or how cold, the strain of the long days, the dangers that the people in them stood up to, all for the sake of making a living and looking after their families.

In some, you can see the pride that the people in these photographs took in their toil and craftsmanship. In others, you look at the people’s faces and wonder how they kept going.

The photographs that I am featuring are only a very small portion of the historical photographs in the Department of Conservation and Development Collection.

I have chosen to sort them into nearly 20 photo-essays featuring a total of 100 photographs in all.

The photographs that I have chosen were all taken in eastern North Carolina, basically east of I-95 today. Some were taken quite close to where I grew up on the North Carolina coast, a few even look at a sweet potato harvest on my great-uncle’s farm in Carteret County.

Others take us into different fields and factories, mills and migrant camps, remote fishing camps and distant seas.

My choice of photographs may seem eclectic at times. But I picked each photograph, or group of photographs, because I thought that they offered a special window into some important aspect of the history of eastern North Carolina, and because I thought that they led us to interesting stories.

I hope you enjoy all of the photo-essays. I will begin the series sometime in the next few days with the longest, which focuses on photographs of threshers in peanut fields near Edenton, at the end of the Great Depression and in the days just before the Second World War.

Even in that very provincial sounding subject — threshers on a peanut farm — I think you may be surprised where the story leads.

As I worked my way through the photographs from that long ago peanut farm, I was introduced to a host of unexpected stories and working people. Just in those few handfuls of photographs, you will meet Bahamian migrant laborers, POWs from North Africa, a pioneering black inventor from Southampton County, Virginia, and Mr. Peanut, among others.

You may also learn, at least I hope you will, a surprising amount about peanuts, the history of peanut farming, the evolution of farm labor and farm machinery, and the national security crisis that led to the dramatic expansion of peanut farming during the Second World War.

To say nothing of plenty of fun facts about the invention of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Baby Ruths.

Above all, and all kidding aside, I hope that these stories will help you to look at these men and women, and sometimes mere children, with a sense of kinship, a feeling of brotherhood and sisterhood.

Next in the series: “In the Peanut Fields of Edenton, 1937-41”

The first chapter of a recently published book about Ocracoke’s unique dialect begins with the imagined experience of a visitor’s first time taking the ferry from Swan Quarter across Pamlico Sound to Ocracoke Village.

During the trip to the 14-mile-long island only accessible by boat or light aircraft, the visitor decides to explore the ferry, pausing upon hearing a group speak a sort-of familiar dialect they can’t quite place.

“You greet the group and then make the same mistake as hundreds of tourists before you, by asking ‘Where are y’all from?’ The response, ‘right here,’ accompanied by uproarious laughter, leaves you disoriented,” the scenario continues.

The mistake is “so frequent that it is part of island lore, passed down by O’Cockers – Ocracoke residents who trace back their family lineage on the island for generations.”

This encounter in the first chapter of “Language and Life on Ocracoke: The Living History of the Brogue,” sets the scene for an exploration into the once-prominent dialect now only spoken by a few hundred on the island.

Published by UNC Press, authors are North Carolina State University English professors Jeffrey Reaser and Walt Wolfram, and Ocracoke Preservation Society board member Candy Gaskill, a fourth-generation resident.

“With this prolonged and comprehensive approach to the region, the authors document the island’s changes, providing readers with a deeply researched, empathetic, and engagingly written snapshot of one of North Carolina’s most cherished places, one with a linguistic heritage worth celebrating,” UNC Press said in a release.

Wolfram told Coastal Review in an interview that he really wants people to understand that Ocracoke had this rich legacy of language.

“What’s Ocracoke famous for? Well, it’s famous for Blackbeard,” Wolfram said about the pirate that was beheaded on the island in 1718. “It’s also famous for its language,” but O’Cockers are losing this tradition that has been a part of the island culture for centuries.

The dialect was “once an iconic trait of the 200-mile chain of Outer Banks islands” but is “now merely a whisper in the region.” Now, there are less than 200 who speak some semblance of the traditional brogue, the book states, and “there are sure signs that the traditional Brogue will soon become extinct.”

Wolfram said he thinks “there are certain things that are strongly associated with that community, and the language has been one of them, and now it’s threatened. What the book does is remind them of that tradition. So in a sense, (the brogue) will be remembered with examples even when it is almost gone.”

This is their third book on Ocracoke and builds on Wolfram’s 1997 “Hoi Toide On The Outer Banks: The Story of the Ocracoke Brogue.” “Hoi Toide” is the brogue pronunciation of high tide — the long i vowel is pronounced as “oy” – and is the origin of the nickname, hoi toiders.

Reaser said in an interview that they “really wanted this to be the first linguistics beach read” and be a bit of an introduction to the linguistics, which is the study of language and structure, to make it accessible for all audiences.

The book is broken up into 24 short chapters, which can be read in any order, and touch on what the brogue is and who speaks it, if the brogue is Shakespearean English or if it’s pirate talk, how to study language, accents and dialects, about African American and Latino communities on Ocracoke, the weather, how the language is evolving, and speculation on how the brogue will evolve, or disappear.

The brogue isn’t Elizabethan, by the way, and it’s “not just pirate talk” (their emphasis) despite Ocracoke’s ties with Blackbeard.

What is it then? The short answer is that the “primary finding was that it was an English dialect that had been influenced by Gaelic languages and other English dialects that had previously been influenced by Gaelic languages.”

“We’re focused on Ocracoke, and we want to preserve and celebrate that dialect and that tradition, but there is another purpose of just getting people to understand more generally, that this is how languages work, this is how dialects work. That they’re always patterned and systematic,” Reaser explained. “Even when there’s a dialect that isn’t celebrated the way that Ocracoke tends to be, that is something that people should take seriously and value.”

Of special note is the companion website with more than 80 QR codes that link to sound or video clips on ocracokebrogue.com, all pulled from their extensive collection of oral histories, media clips, documentary footage and other materials.

“You don’t want to just read about it, you want to hear what it actually sounds like,” Wolfram said.

A peek between the pages

Many of the chapters are based on stories from villagers, such as the first chapter, “Do they take American money over there?” That’s coming straight from the O’Cockers’ stories, Reaser said.

There’s even an anecdote in the book about a British Broadcasting Co. crew that traveled to Ocracoke with the intention of having residents recite lines from Shakespeare’s plays.

Reaser said that having the BBC visit was a “really funny experience,” because they were sure the story was that Ocracoke had preserved Elizabethan English.

“We’re trying to tell them otherwise,” he said, and tried to direct their attention to how interesting the community is with its “really rich mix of all these historical traditions,” but they stuck with their story.

“They actually had the complete works of Shakespeare, and they’re trying to get locals to read it,” he said, expecting it to sound like they were at the Globe Theater, “which is so insulting.”

So, some of the performers in the community recognized what was happening, and decided to put on their best British accent, and overdo the stage performance.

“What the BBC captured was something that’s not even close to the local dialect,” Reaser said, but they aired it, and they must have received enough feedback because you can’t find it anywhere on their website. An updated version has been released but it still pushes the Elizabethan myth.

Wolfram said the publication features stories that people aren’t necessarily aware of as well, like the prominence of the one African American family that moved there in 1865 and maintained the family as a unit until the late 2000s, and how men’s and women’s speech patterns were affected by changing economic drivers, namely the village increasingly depending on tourism.

“We want people to remember how the Black family fit and didn’t fit into the community,” Wolfram said.

Women were in the service industry as tourism grew for the village while men continued to focus on water-related work, Reaser said. The brogue then became “crystallized as this artifact of masculinity, where it never had that in the past.”

Appreciating Ocracoke

Wolfram first heard about Ocracoke as a new professor at N.C. State in 1992.

In the acknowledgement, Wolfram explained that he and his wife decided to travel the state to experience different communities. While explaining these trips to his colleagues, another faculty member told him to “take a trip to Ocracoke, where ‘the people speak Elizabethan English.’”

Wolfram said he recognized the comment to be a “simplified romantic myth often associated with long-term isolated language varieties such as Appalachian English, but I was intrigued.”

That first trip was the catalyst to him devoting more than three decades and taking hundreds of trips to the island to learn more about the village’s families and their history.

When Reaser was a graduate student at N.C. State in 2000, he joined Wolfram on a trip and became just as enthralled with Ocracoke.

The two emphasized how grateful they are to have been welcomed over the years.

There’s a real love of the community and people who live there. “They’re so generous to us. It’s an incredible experience,” Reaser said.

Wolfram said the residents “have been incredibly collaborative and cooperative with us, and we can’t thank them enough for that.”

He feels that when researchers study a community, it’s nice for academics and their reputation, “but we want it to be meaningful” for the communities who give their time and resources.

“We do these sorts of sophisticated analyzes, but what does the community get out of it?” Wolfram continued, explaining that he finds it “ethically inappropriate” when academics go to a community for information and never see them again.

People need to know what you’re doing with the stories, histories and cultures they share with you, and how what you’re doing can help the community, Wolfram said, adding he and his team try to help with any project or program they can as a way to thank the community for “being so generous in terms of talking to us, working with us, and allowing us in.”

The Outer Banks are known for vast, uncrowded beaches, towering lighthouses, and unique cottages, and while these features beckon millions of visitors, some Outer Banks communities are not as well-known.

Rather than towns, most communities here are unincorporated villages, each home to residential homes and unobtrusive tourist accommodations, a few businesses, and a post office. Hatteras may be one of the best known of these villages.

While it is much smaller than incorporated coastal towns like Beaufort or Edenton, Hatteras is home to centuries of history and a number of notable sites, particularly on the southwest tip of its namesake island.

Hatteras Island was populated in the 16th century by the Croatoan Native Americans. They hunted, fished and ate oysters, depositing the shells in massive middens that are one of the few remaining visible indicators of where they lived. They were one of the many Native peoples that the Roanoke Colony interacted with in the 1580s.

The Croatans allied with the Europeans and counted among their numbers Manteo, the first Native American christened by the English in the New World. They factor into the story of the Lost Colony, since Hatteras Island was one of the many areas where the colonists were rumored to have gone after leaving Roanoke. Due to the shifting sands of Hatteras and the lack of definitive records, the fate of the colonists remains a mystery to this day.

Europeans returned to the area in the middle of the 17th century. Historian David Stick notes in his book, “The Outer Banks of North Carolina,” that the first documented English settlers on Hatteras Banks, Patrick Mackuen and William Reed, likely arrived there by 1711. People on Hatteras lived by fishing, farming, and piloting boats. They also took cargo from the many shipwrecks that regularly washed ashore from the Graveyard of the Atlantic.

Despite a growing number of families living on Hatteras, the area was slow to develop as a proper town. Isolated and accessible only by water, Hatteras did not abut one of the major inlets that was open during the colonial period. As a result, it was ignored by the same legislative assemblies that facilitated town construction at nearby Portsmouth and Ocracoke islands. Although numerous people resided on the southwestern portion of the island by the late 18th century, colonial maps often showed just the empty banks and the cape. The area known today as Hatteras Village finally gained its first post office in 1858.

Hatteras remained mostly isolated through the 18th and early 19th centuries. But while it did not have obvious economic importance, it did have military significance to any group wanting to approach or protect North Carolina by water. This led to the construction of Confederate forts Hatteras and Clark on Hatteras Inlet in 1861.

The forts were surrendered to Union in the first combined action of the Army and Navy during the Civil War. This success, the first by Union Gen. Ambrose Burnside, helped the Union gain control of the North Carolina coast and allowed for future invasions of Roanoke Island and the eastern part of the state.

The post-Civil War period saw the emergence of coastal life-saving stations. These buildings housed crews organized to rescue victims from shipwrecks using the latest technology, such as the Lyle gun used to shoot rescue lines.

Three U.S. Life-saving Service stations lined Hatteras Island by 1905, from Durants near the village to Cape Hatteras at the eastern end of the island. Along with greater lifesaving capabilities came a new effort at political organization. Dare County, one of the last counties formed in North Carolina, was created in 1870 from what had been parts of Currituck, Hyde and Tyrrell counties to help administer the far-flung islands of the Outer Banks. Its southern boundary was the western tip of Hatteras Island.

The modern village of Hatteras began to develop in the early 20th century. Locals built a string of houses such as the Ellsworth and Lovie Ballance House, circa 1915, one of the oldest structures in the village and a survivor of numerous hurricanes over the past century, according to state historic preservation records. The house was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2001.

Growth came mainly from tourism. Greater rail and automobile transportation helped more and more visitors reach the beach from such areas as Raleigh, Charlotte and northern cities. More tourists meant an increase in ferry traffic and the growth of roads that made those ferries accessible, such as the highway that became U.S. 264 connecting Belhaven, Swan Quarter and U.S. Highway 64 near Manns Harbor.

In the 1930s, the conservation movement also brought nature tourism to the island through the authorization of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore in 1937, one of the first seashore-protection programs in the country. Conservation protected a unique ecosystem that continues to bring thousands of birding, fishing, and native plant enthusiasts each year. 

With these dynamics in place, Hatteras became a popular vacation destination. Thousands flocked to the coast every summer and engaged in new recreational activities such as surfing and kiteboarding. Demand led to new transportation outlets. The state began to pave roads on Hatteras Island in the 1950s, but it was the completion of the Herbert S. Bonner Bridge in 1963 that provided a direct land connection between Hatteras and the rest of the country.

Soon, the island became home to shops, restaurants and hotels, as well as the familiar fishing shacks and isolated tourist cottages. A 1990 New York Times travel article that praised Hatteras Island’s beach as “one of the loveliest on the East Coast,” also singled out the village for offering “the color of a commercial fishing hub.”

Hatteras has become one of the most popular tourist destinations on the East Coast, growth that has fundamentally altered life in the sleepy fishing village. About 500 residents now live in Hatteras Village fulltime. There are about a dozen restaurants, several seafood markets, general stores, visitor centers, and the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum. A number of these businesses operate year-round and cater to both locals and the summer influx of tourists.

Despite these changes, residents largely are thankful that Hatteras retains much of its village charm.

Patricia Peele, a lifelong resident of the island, told Coastal Review that as recently as 15 years ago, it was like “they used to roll the streets up at 9 p.m. on Labor Day.”

Now, there are always tourists, filling a plethora of mini-hotels across the island. But Peele said that despite the changes, she knows that Hatteras is still secluded compared to the rest of the Outer Banks. It is “not built up like a lot of other places are,” and with the protections provided by the National Park Service, growth will likely remain limited.

Still, Hatteras Village faces many of the same challenges as the rest of the Outer Banks, including those related to rising sea levels, limited resources and strong coastal storms.

The Basnight Bridge, which replaced the Bonner Bridge when the 2.8-mile, $254 million project was completed in 2019, keeps Hatteras Island connected to the mainland, and no matter the challenges, people of Hatteras will likely continue to adapt to life on their ocean sandbar — just as they always have.

Editor’s note: Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the state’s coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

One day I hope that I will know more about Betty Town, a free African American community that white raiders destroyed just before the Civil War to make way for the founding of Aurora.

Now and then, when I have had time, I have done a fair bit of historical research on the people of Betty Town, how their land was taken, and how the community’s people were driven out of their homes.

But there is still much that I do not know. Many of the historical sources are opaque, some of them are difficult to understand, and none tell us what happened from the point of view of the people who lived in Betty Town.

I wish that I had to time to work through those difficulties. But the truth is, my life has somehow gotten far busier than I ever thought it would be at this age: I fear that I will never find the time to do justice to Betty Town’s history.

For that reason, I want to share here what I know now about Betty Town. That way, if other people are interested, maybe they will pick up where I have left off and go further.

Perhaps, after reading this, a younger scholar or a precocious student will take it on, or maybe even a descendant of those who lost their land and homes.

For me the voices of the people of Betty Town are like the fading sounds of whispers in the night. I catch a few words here, and a few words there, but it is always better if more people are listening.

Together we can share what we hear and maybe, just maybe, the story of Betty Town will not be lost.

‘Where the bear, free negro and wild cat roamed’

So I will go first. Here is what I know about Betty Town, the free African American community that used to be on the North Carolina coast, only 30 miles from where I grew up:

First, Betty Town was a rural settlement of free African Americans located on South Creek, 22 miles southeast of the town of Washington, in Beaufort County.

The community was a remote refuge from the evils of the day. Writing in the Feb. 4, 1886, Goldsboro Messenger, one former visitor remembered Betty Town as a land “where the bear, free negro and wild cat roamed at their own free will.”

Another white commentator, also writing after the Civil War, gives us a hint that at least some whites saw Betty Town’s independence and self-reliance as somewhat menacing.

Published in Raleigh’s Weekly Observer on Aug. 10, 1877, that writer declared that Betty Town and its vicinity had been a shady place up until 1857 or 1858.

That part of Beaufort County, the writer declared, was “regarded as an almost worthless swamp except for shingles and staves; the ridges being inhabited for the most part by a thriftless set of free negroes and half-breed Indians.”

That is the way that the state’s white leaders, at least many of them, used to talk about the communities of free, mixed-race people that were located in many different parts of North Carolina’s coastal plain.

In general, they were people set apart and who guarded their freedom, since they knew all too well that it could be taken away if they were not watchful. Nearly all lived off the land — farming, fishing, working in the woods.

The site of Betty Town is now the location of Aurora, a small town that, as the saying goes, has seen better days.

Betty Town’s 18th-century origins

The origin of Betty Town dates at least to the late 18th century and to a free African American couple named Isaiah and Betty Hodge. (Betty Hodge was the community’s namesake.)

The first U.S. census was taken in 1790. At that time, the Hodge family was already residing on South Creek.

In that first federal census of 1790, a “Zear” Hodge, Isaiah or possibly Isaiah’s father, is listed as the head of a household that included four people of color and a white woman.

At that time, Isaiah Hodge would have been 15 years old. He was born in or about 1775.

The Hodges’ neighbors included a sizeable cluster of other free people of color. They included families with the last names of Blango, Johnston, Holmes and Keys, among others.

Exactly how long that group of free African Americans had been in that part of Beaufort County is not clear to me.

However, I did consult the work of master genealogist Paul Heinigg, one of the leading authorities on the history of free African Americans in Virginia and North Carolina.

Heinigg’s research indicates that several free Black families left southeastern Virginia and settled in what became Betty Town and neighboring parts of southeastern Beaufort County earlier in the 1700s.

They included Blangos, Driggers, Perkinses, Moores, and Johnsons (or Johnstons), at the very least.

 A free African American named Thomas Blango, for example, had settled in Beaufort County by 1701, and Blango family genealogists still trace the family’s roots in the county specifically to Betty Town.

Family Blango

According to Stanton Allen’s “Family Blango: A Study of Black American Genealogy,” three free African Americans families with the surname Blango resided at Betty Town in the early 1800s: those of John Blango, John Blango, Jr., and Mrs. Peggy Blango.

Stanton Allen’s article appeared in Bayboro-based The Pamlico News on Aug. 24, 1983.

By the 1810 census, Isaiah Hodge is listed as head of the Hodge household. Eleven others resided with him: 10 free Blacks and one individual who was enslaved, though apparently not by the Hodges.

Thirty years later, Isaiah Hodges is listed in the federal census as head of a household with 15 members, all free, and presumably including children and perhaps grandchildren, and maybe others, too.

(Census takers did not begin to enumerate individual names, other than heads of households, until 1850.)

By 1850, the last census before his death, Isaiah Hodge, then age 75, was listed as the head of a household that included his wife Elizabeth (Betty), three younger adults with the surname Hodge, and an enslaved mother and her five children.

Judging from the census, nine other households of free African Americans lived around them, presumably in what was considered “Betty Town.” They included families with the surnames of Tyson, Hagins, Perkins, Driggers, and maybe Simpsons.

(Judging by their listing in the census, the Simpsons may have resided in a nearby, but slightly different neighborhood).

When I reviewed the Beaufort County deeds at the State Archives, I failed to get a clear picture of Betty Town’s boundaries.

However, the deeds did indicate that Isaiah Hodge alone owned at least 300 acres on both sides of South Creek in the early part of the 19^th century.

Betty Town’s boundaries may have been confined to the Hodge family’s holdings. Or the Hodge lands may have been only the heart of a larger territory that local people called Betty Town.

If Betty Town was confined to the Hodge family holdings, I would suspect that other families also resided on their land and that most of them would have been at least distantly related to Isaiah and Betty Hodge.

Figuring out those relationships will require more genealogical research, but one thing is clear: On the eve of the Civil War, Betty Town was a small but significant enclave of free African Americans that had survived in that part of Beaufort County since the 18^th century.

The Free African Americans of South Creek

The free African Americans who lived in Betty Town were not alone. They were among a sizable minority of free African Americans who resided in that part of Beaufort County.

In the South Creek census district as a whole, free African Americans made up more than a quarter of the total free population in 1850.

According to the census, the South Creek district had a total population of 1,092 persons in 1850. That included 209 free Blacks, 294 enslaved people of color, and 589 free whites.

However, even if Betty Town and similar communities were refuges in some ways, that did not mean that they were safe.

The decade of the 1850s, as the people of Betty Town discovered, was an especially dangerous time to be a free African American in Beaufort County or anywhere on the North Carolina coast.

‘A Free Negro Named Isaiah Hodge’

According to census records, local deeds, and newspaper accounts, Betty Town had vanished by the beginning of the Civil War.

All historical sources that I have seen agree on the basic facts of what happened to Betty Town. First, they agree that one of Beaufort County’s wealthiest and most influential white political leaders claimed to have forcibly taken legal possession of the community’s land sometime in 1857 or 1858.

Even in white circles, it seems to have been acknowledged that the taking of Betty Town’s land was accomplished by legal chicanery.

Second, at least a significant part of Betty Town’s residents, including the Hodge family, refused to abandon their homes.

Third, the holdouts were eventually driven out of Betty Town not by lawful authorities, but by vigilantes.

That much seems clear. Many details do not seem clear to me at all, however. The historical accounts are relatively few, they clash in some cases, and large gaps in the story remain.

While I did not necessarily expect to find it, I was also disappointed not to find an account of Betty Town’s last days that was written by any of those who were dispossessed or their descendants.

To me that is an almost crippling omission. In my long years as a historian, I have repeatedly seen how contemporary white and Black views of historical events are often completely different. Again and again, I have found them to be as different as night and day.

All that said, even the surviving white accounts paint a sordid portrait of the destruction of Betty Town.

The most widely known account was written in 1916 by Robert Tripp Bonner, who was one of the most active local historians and genealogists in Beaufort County in the early 20^th century.

A surveyor by trade, R.T. Bonner (1854-1919), who was white, came from Bonnerton, only a few miles from Betty Town, and spent much of his life in Aurora.

At the time of Betty Town’s troubles, he was just a young boy, five or six years old. However, he inevitably grew up hearing stories about Betty Town.

Years later, in 1880, when the town of Aurora was officially incorporated at the former site of Betty Town, he was the surveyor who laid out the town’s streets.

In the early 20^th century, Bonner occasionally wrote articles on Beaufort County’s history in the local newspapers. One of those articles focused on the town of Aurora’s history.

Published in the Washington Progress in 1916, Bonner’s article was not hesitant about looking at Aurora’s origins:

“The land previous to the Civil War was owned by a free negro named Isaiah Hodge who died from the effects of a cancer and during his sickness was furnished with the necessities of life by Isaiah Respess who took a mortgage on the lands.”

Isaiah Respess was a prosperous merchant, farmer, and lumberman who had extensive land holdings across a broad swath of eastern North Carolina. He was also the mayor of Washington during the early part of the Civil War.

Bonner recalled that, after Isaiah Hodge’s death, which was apparently in 1857 or 1858, Respess called in the family’s debts and, when his widow Betty could not meet them, had their land confiscated.

He then “sold the land under execution by Sheriff Henry Alderson Ellison and bid it in about 1859.”

Sometime soon after, according to Bonner, “Rev. W. H. Cunningham, of Lenoir County, came to South Creek, bought the site of Aurora from Isaiah Respess and began the town.”  

The Rev. W. H. Cunningham (ca. 1824-1895) was a Methodist minister originally from Greene County. Before coming to Beaufort County, he had been serving as the principal of Lenoir Academy, a private school in Kinston, the seat of Lenoir County.

He had a highly entrepreneurial spirit and was involved in a number of real estate and business ventures before, during, and after the Civil War.

The Dispossessed

The Hodges and their neighbors obviously believed that the taking of their land was an injustice.

By all accounts, they did not accept the legality of the sheriff’s proceedings, the right of Respess to have their land confiscated, or Rev. Cunningham’s right to evict them. According to Bonner’s story, they defied Rev. Cunningham and the county sheriff and refused to leave their homes in Betty Town.

Bonner continued:

“Mr. Cunningham had much trouble dispossessing the free negroes, but one Sunday night, [when] these negroes left their homes to go to a big preaching, Cunningham tore down their houses and took possession of their lands.”

The county sheriff evidently allowed the assault, but that would not have surprised anyone, Black or white, at the time. In antebellum North Carolina, free African Americans were left to defend their own.

Betty Town is unlikely to have survived so long if the community had not previously shown that it was able to defend itself.

In his history of Aurora, Bonner then says:

“These negroes emigrated to Ohio and as the law at that time forbid free negroes after leaving the state to return, they and their descendants did not come back.”

The Legal Status of Free African Americans

In 1830, North Carolina legislators prohibited free African Americans from returning to the state if they left for 90 days.

That law was part of a raft of laws and state constitutional amendments in the 1830s that deprived free blacks of many of the most basic rights of American citizenship.

Other rights taken away from North Carolina’s free African Americans in the 1830s included the right of free assembly, the right of free speech, the right to vote, the right to bear arms, and the right to testify against white citizens in court.

Without those rights, Betty Town’s citizens realistically had no path to defending themselves against the takeover of their land, at least not in court, even in the unlikely event that they could have found a local attorney willing to represent them.

According to Bonner’s 1916 story, after taking Betty Town’s homes and farms, the Rev. Cunningham renamed the place “Aurora.”

Even before the Civil War, he began recruiting new settlers to the former site of Betty Town by running advertisements in newspapers in other parts of North Carolina that made “Aurora” sound like Eden.

From North Carolina to Ohio

Betty Town’s refugees were not the only free African Americans who looked to the state of Ohio for shelter in those last years before the Civil War.

Confronted with severe restrictions on their legal rights and by growing white violence, an important number of North Carolina’s free African Americans found new homes in the northern states.

In the 1850s, Cleveland, Oberlin, and other parts of Ohio were especially common destinations for free African Americans from Eastern North Carolina.

Probably the best known of the region’s free Black exiles in Ohio was Lewis Sheridan Leary.

Leary left his family’s home in Fayetteville, and moved to Oberlin, Ohio, in 1856. He was active in the Ohio Anti-Slavery Society, probably active in the Underground Railroad, and was one of three Blacks who rode with John Brown at Harpers Ferry.

‘A Gang of Lawless Ruffians’

Another account of Betty Town’s last days was published just a short time after the community’s destruction.

Appearing in the North Carolina Times, a Raleigh newspaper, on Jan. 25, 1860, an anonymous letter writer calling himself “John Veritas” declared that he had visited “Aurora” that winter, while visiting friends in that part of Beaufort County.

In his letter, John Veritas indicated that he had read a newspaper advertisement placed by Rev. Cunningham that sought to recruit settlers to his new town. While in the area, he had decided that he wanted to see “Aurora” for himself.

To say the least, he had not been impressed. Rev. Cunningham’s advertisement apparently promised a bustling little town that already had churches, shops, a physician’s office, elegant homes, and other “fine edifices.”

Instead, John Veritas wrote, he found that his white friends there still called the area “Betty Town” and barely remembered hearing anything about a town called “Aurora.”

All that he found there, he said, was “one dwelling house, a schoolhouse, the ruins of an old house, [and] pine and gum saplings.”

Along one side of the schoolhouse, he reported, someone had scribbled a bit of graffiti.

BETTY TOWN, if you are so soon done for—

I wonder what you was ever begun for?

I could be wrong, but I assume that was the schoolhouse that had served Betty Town’s children.

By that time, Isaiah Hodge had already died. The house in ruins, as we will see, was evidently that of his widow, Betty Hodge, and the surviving house was that of her son and his family.

If any of Betty Town’s other families remained on the land, John Veritas had not been shown their homes.

After seeing “Aurora,” the visitor compared Rev. Cunningham’s real estate ad to “a patent medicine advertisement recommending pills efficacious in the cures of all diseases …”

John Veritas’s letter in the Raleigh Times elaborated further on his visit to Beaufort County.

According to the local people with whom he spoke:

… a speculating land gambler came down there, fixing his eye upon this spot as an eligible site, turned up a claim to it, and supposing it an easy matter to get clear of these old negroes, he ordered them to leave the premises.”

The “speculating land gambler” was of course Rev. Cunningham.

Evidently, Betty Hodge and her son did not succumb to the minister’s threats. According to the anonymous letter, they even sought out legal counsel from a prominent white attorney in the county seat.

John Veritas continued:

“They were then threatened with violence … A few weeks later, in the bitter cold of December, [Cunningham] procured a lawless vagabond … to undermine the chimneys to the old woman’s house …”

According to John Veritas, Betty Hodge still did not relent.

 “Finding this cruel heartless act not sufficient to accomplish his purposes, with a gang of lawless ruffians, at a late hour, on a dark, cold, freezing night, attacked the old house, pulling down portions of it and tearing the roof off, drove the old woman forth exposed to the inclement, freezing frost of a winter’s night ….”

In his letter, John Veritas claimed that Cunningham’s thugs then went next door and “inhumanely beat” Betty Hodge’s son and daughter-in-law. Their crime, he was told, was daring to consult the attorney in Washington about their right to hold onto their land.

At the end of his letter, John Veritas indicated that, according to his friends in Beaufort County, justice was somehow served in the end and “the old woman restored to her land.”

That was not true or, if it was, Betty Hodge did not remain in Betty Town for very long.

By the time the U.S. census taker reached that part of Beaufort County later in 1860, Betty Hodge and her family were not there. I do not know exactly when or how they left, but Betty Town was gone.

I do not feel clear about where they went. According to Bonner’s 1916 history of Aurora that I quoted earlier, they left North Carolina and emigrated to Ohio.

However, I have not succeeded in locating Betty Hodge or any of her family in the federal censuses of Ohio in the late 19^th or early 20^th centuries. The only mention of them that I have found anywhere was in a brief part of Bonner’s article that I have not yet discussed.

In that section of his article, Bonner writes:

“About 1885 …, some of Isaiah Hodge[‘s] heirs returned, employed E. S. Simmons and entered suit against the citizens of the [Aurora].”

Attorney E. S. Simmons (1855-1907)

Enoch Spencer Simmons was an attorney in Washington, N.C. in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. A graduate of the University of North Carolina, he was originally from Hyde County, just across the Pamlico River from South Creek.

In 1898, Simmons published a book-length essay called A Solution to the Negro Problem of the South.

In that essay, he proposed that southern whites forcibly remove all of the South’s Black citizens from their land and relocate them to an all-black colony that he proposed the U.S. Government create in the states of Alabama, Louisiana, and Mississippi.

I do not think you would be mistaken if you took Simmons’ background as evidence of the quality of legal representation that was available to the state’s black citizens in the late 19^th century.

In that 1916 article, R. T. Bonner continued:

“This suit fell through owing to the fact that an unrecorded deed from Sheriff Ellison to Isaiah Respess was found in the safe of Capt. Wilson Farrow who married the only child of Isaiah Respess.”

Isaiah and Betty Hodge’s descendants had not made a claim against Rev. Cunningham, but instead sought damages for what they believed to be the illegal confiscation of their land by Isaiah Respass.

On one of my trips to the State Archives, I looked for the case in the superior court indexes but did not find it. However, I might have missed it; I think it might be worth re-checking.

Few historical records could tell us more about Betty Town, and court filings would also give us a least something from the perspective of the people who lost their homes and land.

The Rev. Cunningham returned to the former site of Betty Town after the Civil War. His claim to the land was recognized by law by that time. Over the next few years, he would welcome new settlers, establish a church, and operate a hotel in the new town of Aurora.

His interests however were rather far ranging. In a New Bern newspaper from 1865, I found an advertisement in which he was selling 1,500 acres of “tar and turpentine land” in Beaufort County.

According to the Charlotte Observer Dec. 5, 1877, edition, he was expelled from the Methodist church district conference for “immorality” in 1877.

The town of Aurora was officially incorporated on the former site of Betty Town in 1880. It grew into a bustling little market town later in the 19^th century, and then into an important regional center for truck farming after the railroad’s arrival in or about 1911.

Today Aurora is best known for being home to one of the largest open pit phosphate mines in North America and for a very nice museum that highlights the marine fossils found at the mine.

I do not know if anyone knows more than this about Betty Town. But I hope that I will find out when I publish this story. I cannot help hoping that somebody, somewhere, maybe even a descendent of the people who lost their homes and land, will see this story and reach out to me.

A Hometown Heritage marker telling the story of the Atlantic District Fairgrounds in Ahoskie was dedicated last month as part of a Juneteenth celebration.

The fairgrounds were, at one time, the cultural centerpiece of the region’s African American community.

But those times are gone. The track established in 1920 where trotters pulled sulkies for almost 90 years is overgrown and covered with grass. The brick grandstand, built in the late 1950s, is still there and from a distance looks intact, but the roof of the building next to it that once housed the stables is sagging and the paint is peeling.

The fairgrounds haven’t been used since 2010, but, for most of the nine decades it was in operation, it was a place where people of color in Hertford, Bertie, Gates and Northampton counties had the opportunity “to submit items of work and pride: preserves, needlecraft, woodcraft, cooking, livestock and art for possible prizes. It was rare for people of color to have such opportunities and rewards: to win a ribbon along with a dollar or two,” wrote Marvin Tupper Jones, executive director of the Chowan Discovery Group in a grant application for the nonprofit William G. Pomeroy Foundation.

The marker was unveiled June 14 at the R.L. Vann School Community Resource Center at 415 Holloman Ave. in Ahoskie, located beside the historic fairgrounds, during a Juneteenth program.

The Chowan Discovery Group works to preserve the history of the Winton Triangle, a 280-year-old landowning community of people of color. The Pomeroy Foundation was established in 2005 and offers several grant programs to help communities honor their history.

For a brief time during segregation, there were two fairs in Hertford County. The Hertford County Fair in Winton was first held 1918.

Prominent African American business owners and educators from Ahoskie and surrounding areas formed the Atlantic District Fair Association in 1920 after being denied access to the Hertford County Fair in the county seat.

“The Atlantic District Fair Association, incorporated, Ahoskie in Hertford county, to conduct a district agricultural fair and to promote agriculture, authorized capital $20,000, with $1,000 paid in by Augustus Sessoms of Ahoskie, C.D. Nichens, Winton and many others,” the Greensboro Daily News reported in February 2020.

The fair proved an immediate success, with the Hertford County Herald reporting on Oct. 28, 1921, “Since Tuesday, the opening day of the Atlantic’District Fair (colored), immense crowds have paid daily visits to the grounds…The opening day witnessed the smallest crowd of the 3-day fair. Wednesday’s and today’s crowds have met the expectations of the officials of the fair, who have been making extensive preparations for their initial fair.”

For three years, 1921-1923, the two fairs took place within a few weeks of one another.

But, according to the Ahoskie News Herald, by 1923 the Hertford County Fair was in financial trouble.

“The Hertford County Fair Association has called a meeting of the stockholders of the association … next Thursday, December 6. At that time a report of finances will be given and records of this year’s fair given. On account of the quick change in weather and postponing of the first day of the fair this year, the final report shows the association to have lost money, to the extent of about $350 this year (approximately $6,600 in 2025). This leaves the association worse off financially than before, and the meeting at Winton will probably decide the fate of the organization for another year,” the paper reported.

No further references to a Hertford County Fair was found in area newspapers.

Yet the Atlantic District Fair thrived throughout the 20th century. As the 32nd annual fair got underway in 1954, the Gates County Index reported in its Oct. 7 edition that, “President Clarence Chavis (had) received from Commissioner of Agriculture L. Y. Ballentine a letter in which the Atlantic District Fair was described us the third ranking fair in the state in the amount of agricultural exhibits and premiums, thus only one other fair besides the NC Stale Fair ranked higher than the Roanoke-Chowan’s Atlantic District Fair which in all its history has been promoted and managed entirely by Negroes.”

The paper did not identify the fair that ranked second.

Almost 40 years later, the fair continued to thrive. In a 1993 addendum to “History of the Atlantic District Fairground Association Incorporated … A.D. 1919 – A.D. 1991” wrote author Clarence Newsome, vice president of the association. “The 1993 episode of the Atlantic District Fair … was one of the most auspicious events in the recent history of the association.”

Paid attendance totaled nearly 8,000 people.

If 1993 was an auspicious year, there were storm clouds gathering.

“The population of the area started declining. A lot of the people active in the fair were business people. In the 70s,” Jones explained to Coastal Review. “We weren’t creating new retailers. We weren’t creating any more stores and business people and business people know how to run things.”

The population of Hertford County and Ahoskie have been in decline for more than 50 years, but the past 10 years have seen some of the more significant declines. From a population of almost 25,000 in the county in the 2010 census, the population is now estimated at less than 20,000. Ahoskie’s downtown district, which was at one time a thriving railroad transportation hub, reflects the broader changes seen countywide.

The entire downtown is a historic district, architecturally seemingly frozen in time between 1900 and 1940.

“The range of architectural styles found in Ahoskie is limited due to the relatively short period of the most of the town’s development,” wrote the North Carolina Department of Cultural Resources in documents creating an Ahoskie Historic District.

Today, however the downtown is almost entirely deserted, many of the buildings empty and in disrepair. Not all of them though. Toward the west side of town, The Sweets on Main opened in May after renovating a 1948 building that had once housed a doctor’s office. The watermelon sorbet was perfect on a hot summer day, according to this reporter.

Yet even if there are a few businesses trying to bring the downtown back, Jones isn’t sure if there is enough of the same spirit that had once created a bustling, viable downtown Ahoskie.

“I don’t know if I see a new generation of leaders,” Jones said. “In the late 60s, 70s and up, we were trying to hang on to what our parents and grandparents…had passed down to us, but we don’t see a generation behind us that’s going to bolster what we’re doing.”

This story has been updated. A previous version misidentified the date of the harness racing photo.

“Pretty much all my paintings tell a story,” said Rik Freeman.       

“When I was growing up, my grandmother used to say I would eavesdrop on grown folks’ conversations because they were just always so colorful, and talking I would see images in my head of what they were talking about and everything said,” the Washington, D.C., artist told Coastal Review.

For the last few years, Freeman’s art has been telling the story about African American beach communities during the Jim Crow era.

His series, “Black Beaches During Segregation,” features several vibrant paintings representing different historically Black beaches on the Atlantic, including Ocean City on Topsail Island, and goes on display in Onslow County starting Saturday.

The exhibit is part of the 15^th annual Ocean City Jazz Festival set for July 4-6 in North Topsail Beach. The theme of the three-day music festival is “Celebrating History Through the Language of Jazz and Unity.” A full schedule and ticket information can be found on the website.

The festival was first held in 2009 to mark the 60th anniversary of Ocean City’s establishment. Now a part of North Topsail Beach, Ocean City was established in 1949 “as an African-American-owned community 15 years before the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Ocean City was a unique community as it was the first residential beach community with Black home ownership in the state,” according to the North Carolina African American Heritage Commission, which is sponsoring the exhibit with Ocean City Jazz Festival.

Opening reception for Freeman’s show is at 2 p.m. Saturday, June 28, at the Jacksonville-Onslow Council for the Arts, 826 New Bridge St. in Jacksonville. Freeman is scheduled to give an artist’s talk at 3 p.m. and there will be time afterward to view the exhibit. Register online to attend.

Freeman, who spent his youth in Athens, Georgia, said he began drawing as a young child but really got into murals in his 20s, after college. He moved to Washington, D.C., in 1985 when he landed a job at the airport while he was visiting family for Thanksgiving.

He returned to art a few years later at 32. “It was in ’88. My father died — this is about to sound like an old blues song — my father died. I got fired from my job. My girlfriend left me, so I started working back with my art again,” he said.

The D.C. Commission of the Arts and Humanities posted in the newspaper an ad looking for artists willing to work with children during a summer program painting murals. Freeman applied and was accepted. “It started from there,” making a living off painting murals.

The idea for the “Black Beaches During Segregation” series was sparked when he learned that a Black-owned beach in California, which was taken from the family owners in the 1920s, had been returned to the descendants.

“I thought about that and that couldn’t have been the only one,” Freeman said, so he began researching. He came across Chicken Bone Beach, an African American beach in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He asked Honfleur Gallery owner Duane Gautier, who is from the Garden State, if he knew about the beach, but hadn’t heard of it. “And so I started telling them about others.” Freeman’s work is shown at Honfleur Gallery in Washington.

Gautier was interested and told Freeman to write a proposal for the gallery’s Artist in Residence Program.  This was in 2022.

He started with six beaches along the Atlantic Seaboard to research and paint, including Ocean City. He’s up to 14 or 15 beaches now, and he wants to represent at least one beach in every state south of the Mason-Dixon Line.

During his visit to Ocean City, Freeman met with people of the community, including Ocean City Jazz Festival co-chairs Carla and Craig Torrey.

Carla Torrey, originally from Fayetteville but now residing in Durham, is a second-generation homeowner in Ocean City. Her father was the principal builder when the community first started.

When she and others met Freeman in person, Torrey said that he explained how his series “uses art to visually document and celebrate the historical and cultural importance of places like the Ocean City Beach community, which played a crucial role in providing spaces for leisure and community for African Americans during a time of systemic racial discrimination. We are a perfect match.”

The exhibit features two paintings honoring Ocean City. One is based on a photo Torrey gave Freeman of herself as a young girl walking with her father on the pier with Ocean City Terrace in the background. Built in 1953 from an abandoned Navy missile observation tower, the restaurant is no longer standing.

“It’s so special to me, because my father really loved this community,” Torrey said. “I’m very grateful to Rik for doing that.”

She said that after talking to Freeman, the jazz festival organizers felt the series should be brought to the county, “so that they could see the other communities that he had visited and that existed and learn a bit about their legacy in history.”

The other painting features two men playing instruments with a modern-day interpretation of the Ocean City Terrace in the background. Freeman said he thinks they eventually want to get restaurant rebuilt, so he took artistic license when painting the building.

The piece on St. Augustine Beach in Florida, Freeman said, is the only piece that directly confronts the racism of the era.

“Because in June ’64 in St. Augustine, they had, instead of sit-ins, it was a wade-in because you’re wading into either a pool or a segregated beach, and a riot broke out, and a lot of people got injured. It was on the news,” Freeman explained. Around the same time, a motel owner threw sulfuric acid in a pool where high school kids were swimming because they wouldn’t get out of the water.

“Those two incidents led (President Lyndon Johnson) to sign the Civil Rights bill less than a month later. So, I figured I wanted to do at least one piece that did show that out-and-out racism, but most of the pieces are based on showing the joy, the camaraderie, you’re in a safe place, and people just having a good time,” he said.

“But the underlying thing is,” Freeman continued, is that when somebody’s looking at the work and they “say, ‘why is it just all these Black folks at the beach?’ Is this somewhere in the Caribbean, or is it Brazil, Africa?’ No, this is United States of America, and the beaches were segregated.”

In his painting depicting Atlantic Beach in South Carolina, “you can barely see it. You have to look for it. There’s a little orange rope that goes out into the water. And a lady down there was telling me that rope was basically the color line, and she just kind of laughed. She said, ‘What did they think that the water that touched us wasn’t going to come and touch them?’”

Ultimately, Freeman wants people who see the exhibit to see the camaraderie and look at the histories of these beaches.

“I want people to kind of look and see as it’s very commendable what people were able to do to be able to create those beaches and safe places. And you know, some of them had a little bit of trouble and everything, but by and large, they were safe,” he said.

Torrey said that the Ocean City Jazz Festival “provides the perfect historical setting and audience for Rik Freeman’s impactful art, while the NC African American Heritage Commission brings its expertise and mandate for preserving and promoting the rich, often untold, stories of African American heritage in North Carolina.”

North Carolina African American Heritage Commission Director Adrienne Nirdé has been with the state commission since 2020, acting as director for the last two years.

The commission has sponsored the Ocean City Jazz Festival for several years now, which Nirdé said is important for the division within the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

“When talking about segregation and Civil Rights, that’s often associated with lunch counters and schools, and that’s a big part of the history that people learn about, if they learn about it at all, but when you dive into deeper, in a place like North Carolina, this was something that touched every aspect of life,” Nirdé said. “People were recreating. They wanted to go on vacation, they wanted to go to the beach. They wanted to golf and experience swimming pools and all of these different types of spaces. This is just really an important way to share the other layer of this story.”

Council For the Arts of Jacksonville Onslow County Executive Director Kandyce Quintero said she and the council’s executive board “are extremely excited to have this exhibit be the kick-start to the festival this year.”

During Freeman’s talk on Saturday, he said he will discuss the work he curated for this exhibit.

“I really want the visitors to understand how important these paintings are. The stories behind each one and how generations have been affected even in today’s world,” she said.

NAGS HEAD — Jockey’s Ridge used to be known as the tallest natural sand dune on the East Coast, but now it’s described as its largest natural active sand dune system.

While it may not be as high as it was in 1973, the unique phenomenon of nature is still there — famously thanks to Carolista Baum, a young mother who that year physically blocked a developer’s bulldozer.

A celebration of the 50th anniversary of Jockey’s Ridge State Park held June 5-8 drew thousands of people, from folks who had rolled down the dune as children to tourists who climb it every summer to watch the sun set, to share in appreciation of the beloved Outer Banks landmark.

Festivities included a duneside performance last Friday by the popular indie band, the Connells — with a surprise appearance by North Carolina Gov. Josh Stein — followed by the Outer Banks’ first drone light show.

In his introduction to a documentary about “magical, awesome” Jockey’s Ridge screened at the park’s visitor center late that Saturday afternoon, park ranger Austin Paul said the 22-minute “collection of heartfelt stories” from the community and state officials about the site will continue to grow as more content is gathered.

“Jockey’s Ridge is kind of like the center point of the Outer Banks, Ann-Cabell Baum, Carolista Baum’s oldest daughter, says in the film. “Jockey’s Ridge is so many different things to so many different people … It’s part of our souls, it’s part of our hearts, it’s part of our families.”

Baum and her siblings used to play every day on Jockey’s Ridge, she recalled in a later interview with Coastal Review.

One day the children saw a bulldozer arrive to start digging on the backside of the dune, and Baum, then age 6 1/2, along with her sister Inglis, 5, and her brother Gibbs, 3 1/2, dashed back to their nearby home to tell their mother. Carolista immediately ran over to the spot and stood in front of the bulldozer, not moving until the operator gave up and left, Baum said. 

Her petite 33-year-old mother, a dark-haired Edenton farm girl who grew up with six brothers, then promptly removed the distributor cap, and went about rallying the community in what became the “Save our Sand Dune” campaign to get the state to preserve Jockey’s Ridge.

It wasn’t the first time that developers had raised the ire of the locals — by then the Villa Dunes subdivision was already built on the northern edges of the dunes, and plans for the new development had already been submitted to the town. But this time, the whole community got behind her mother, Baum remembered.

“She was sincere and loving and kind,” her daughter said about Carolista, remembering how people always would come by her jewelry shop to visit with her and chat.

A year after the bulldozer was banished, the dune was declared a National Natural Landmark, and the following year the state park was created.

As former Nags Head Mayor and Commissioner Renee Cahoon says in the documentary, the park is an asset to the town in multiple ways.

“No one else has a Jockey’s Ridge,” she says. “It’s not just cultural icon; it’s also a business icon.”

The park is routinely in the top five of the most-visited state parks in North Carolina.

Last year, 1.2 million people visited. But during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 and 2021, visitation went through the roof, at 1.9 million and 1.8 million, respectively. Both years had the Nags Head park as the No. 1 most-visited state park. It is currently back to prepandemic visitation.

“It’s more than a fabulous sand pile,” Peggy Birkemeier, a member of the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge Board of Directors, says in the film.

As Birkemeier notes, Jockey’s Ridge has a bounty of natural resources that offer numerous “exciting experiences” for visitors.

The backside of the park abuts the Roanoke Sound, with its long shoreline meandering northward along brackish marshes and toward the ancient maritime forest of Nags Head Woods. It includes a sound beach access that is popular with families. There are also unpaved trails through shrub forest areas beyond the shoreline that lead to the lower expanse of the dunes.

And the night sky above the dunes presents some of the most dramatic scenes on the Outer Banks. In fact, any time of day or night, cloudy or starry, at sunrise or sunset, the sky from Jockey’s Ridge is a wonderment.

“It is certainly a place where many memories are made,” Birkemeier says about the park. 

Legacy projects for Jockey’s Ridge that are in the works include the creation of a trail that loops around the park with informational markers about 10 different significant areas — such as hang gliding and the sometimes-buried sand castle — and a time capsule with various artifacts that is tentatively planned to be kept on display at the visitor center museum.

When the park first opened on May 31, 1975, the big dune was 140 feet tall, Jockey’s Ridge State Park Superintendent Joy Cook explained to Coastal Review in an interview after the event. But shifting maritime winds continually rearranged its estimated 30 million tons of sand, mostly quartz blown in ages ago from the mountains, into different shapes, while surrounding development influenced sand travel. Now the dunes are a system of three smaller hills that are 60 to 80 feet tall. 

“It’s moving 1- to 6-feet to the south each year,” she said. “The prominent wind is out of the north. The dunes are north-south orientation, and the southeast corner is moving faster than the rest of it.”

About six years ago, she said, the park had to relocate the sides of the corner that were moving into the road, and it will probably have to be moved again in a few years.

But even at its decreased height, being on top of Jockey’s Ridge is close to a surreal experience, and it’s not only because of the panoramic view of sea, sound and landscape. The vast expanse of undulating sand at times feels nearly mystical. Depending on the time of day, as well as the weather conditions, the shadows cast by the light and the wind-carved designs in the sand can transform the dunes into art.

But as every local knows, Jockey’s Ridge is the last place a person would want to be in extremes of any weather: a blazing hot summer day, a very windy or rainy day, or any degree of thunderstorm. And sometimes being on top in the middle of all that sand can be disorienting — it’s not unusual for visitors to lose their bearings.

On the flipside, kids delight in rolling and leaping down the dune, and young adults love to slide down them on boogie boards — especially if there’s a rare snowfall. Not to mention that the hang-gliding and kite flying, if the wind cooperates, is extraordinary.

Carolista Baum, an artist and a jeweler, died at 50 from a brain tumor. She remains as one of the most admired personalities in Outer Banks history, not only for her vibrancy and strength of character, but for her courage to stand her ground and protest what she believed was wrong.

As many recognized during the anniversary celebration, without Carolista taking action at that moment, and creating the momentum and inspiration in the community for the preservation fight, it’s likely that Jockey’s Ridge would not have been here to celebrate its 50-year anniversary.

“In 1973, she stood in front of a bulldozer and probably wouldn’t have been arrested,” Baum said. “It was a different time then. But I think she still would have stood in front of a bulldozer if that happened today.”

Editor’s note: Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the state’s coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

Today I am remembering a trip last fall, when my wife traveled to a conference in Cape Neddick, Maine, and I went with her. It was a lovely area — the wild and rocky seacoast, the salt marshes, the bogs, all of it.

While we were there, we took a few extra days to explore that southern part of the Maine coast. We drove up to the old Shaker settlement in Alfred. We visited Winslow Homer’s studio at Prout’s Neck. We went bird watching at Biddeford Pool. We hiked in the Kennebunk Barrens.

One drizzly day though, while Laura was at her conference, I drove down to the Portsmouth Atheneum, a venerable old library located in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 15 miles south of Cape Neddick.

Located on the Piscataqua River, which is the dividing line between Maine and New Hampshire, Portsmouth was one of New England’s most important seaports in the 17^th and 18^th centuries.

Founded in 1817, the Portsmouth Athenaeum is above all a library of America’s maritime history. Its books, manuscripts, maps, art, and relics speak to the distinctive maritime heritage of Portsmouth and of the Piscataqua’s lesser seaports, shipyards, and fishing villages.

But the Athenaeum’s collections were not only of local interest. Shipping and shipbuilding tied the region’s seaports to the whole North Atlantic. In the library’s collections, you can learn about the places where local merchant vessels did business, and sometimes where they came for refuge or even to their end.

One of those places, as we’ll see, was the North Carolina coast.

My special interest — aside from the popover shop across the street from the Athenaeum (worth the trip) — was a collection of historical manuscripts in the library’s collection that date to the early 1800s.

They are the records of the New Hampshire Fire and Marine Insurance Co., a firm that was based in Portsmouth and specialized in insuring local merchant sailing vessels and their cargos.

The company was in business from 1802 to 1822. During that time, it occupied the handsome, three-story brick building in Market Square that is now the home of the Portsmouth Athenaeum.

When the insurance firm closed in 1822, the board of directors passed the building onto the Athenaeum. Evidently, when they moved in, the library’s caretakers discovered the company’s business records had been left in the building’s vault. They became the first, or one of the first, groups of historical manuscripts in the library’s collection.

For me, as a historian of the North Carolina coast, the most compelling manuscripts in the insurance company’s records were the claims reports of shipwrecks and storm damage that had some connection to the Outer Banks and other parts of the North Carolina coast.

Only half a dozen of the company’s claims reports involved the North Carolina coast. Nevertheless, I found them a riveting look at seagoing life in that day and time, and most definitely worth the trip from Cape Neddick.

(Again, I would have made the trip for the popovers, so the manuscripts were gravy.)

I found the sworn affidavits in the claims reports the most exhilarating. Most were firsthand recollections of mariners who had lived through a storm or a wreck that had led to an insurance claim.

When I read those affidavits, I felt as if I could almost hear the voices of those seamen as they struggled through storms that came perilously close to sending them to the bottom of the sea.

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Some of the oldest insurance claims that I found related to the North Carolina coast, I mean, were those of the brig, Alligator. According to the claims report, she limped battered and beaten up the Cape Fear River and anchored off Wilmington, on the first day of February 1805.

The insurance company’s policy on the Alligator was a bit of a dry read, but I found far more drama in the testimony of John Stavers, one of the mariners who served on the Alligator.

According to Stavers’ testimony, given before a notary in Wilmington, the Alligator had sailed from Portsmouth to Martinique, which at that time was a French colony where most of the inhabitants were enslaved African laborers imprisoned on sugar plantations.

On Nov. 24, 1804, the Alligator left Martinique, bound for Portsmouth, with a hold full of the ill-gotten molasses and sugar.

She quickly ran into foul weather. In his account of the Alligator’s misfortunes, Stavers testified, “That they had very cloudy hazy weather attended with storms, ice and snow for nearly 30 days….”

The Alligator finally made land on Dec. 1, but a heavy gale out of the north-northwest brought in “a rough sea and very hard freezing weather” that pushed them back out to sea.

Stavers testified that two of his fellow sailors had “their feet frozen.” Another of his mates fell sick, leaving the Alligator shorthanded in the storm.

On Jan. 5, things got worse. Stavers recalled that four more crewmen fell sick and were incapacitated.

Soon the storm also began to take a toll on the Alligator. He and his shipmates were hit, Stavers said, with “severe freezing weather and strong gales of wind from W.N.W.”

The heavy seas sprung the brig’s mainmast.

Then, he told the notary, “the bulk-head labored, and the water ways complaining and one of the Plank shares washed off, and the sails and rigging [were] much cut with the ice—some of the chain bolts carried away, and one of the topmast back stays, [so] they tore away before the wind for the Port of Wilmington N.C.”

He testified that they did so for “the preservation of their lives.” According to Stavers, the brig’s master did not believe that they could make any other port before the Alligator fell to pieces.

Stavers ended his report by telling the notary that they had barely made it to the mouth of the Cape Fear River.

“They had heavy gales of wind with snow and ice with a rough sea,” he swore.

The Alligator struggled to make it through the storm, taking in a great deal of water, until finally, on Feb. 1, 1805, “they came to anchor up the River near Wilmington.”

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Many of the claims reports also featured the sworn testimony of local port officials and shipyard workers.

That testimony focused on their evaluations of the extent of a vessel’s damage, the necessity of repair, the costs of the repairs and what shipyards and maritime tradesmen did the work.

With respect to the Alligator, for instance, the claims report includes the port wardens’ assessment of the damage that the brig had suffered and of the extent of the repairs that had been done in a Wilmington shipyard.

The report also provided a rundown of the tradesmen who worked on the Alligator and a list of the ship chandlers who supplied the materials for the repairs.

The list of the shipyard workers included those I rarely see in seaport records. In this case, the appraisals, receipts, and job orders listed two ship’s carpenters, William Thidden and Thomas Hunter; a sailmaker, Bethel Gentry; a blacksmith named London Harris; and a block maker named either William Bells or William Bills. (The name was hard to read.)

They also indicated that John Woods led the repairs of the Alligator’s rigging, while John Lord supplied planking for the repairs and a merchant named Richard Langdon supplied naval stores.

There was also a rather general bill from a ship chandler, David Smith. He evidently supplied cordage, rudder iron, new spars, and even 13 barrels of flour and 2 boxes of fish that were apparently crew rations either for the voyage home or for the period while they were waylaid in Wilmington.

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Around the same time, another vessel insured by the New Hampshire Fire and Marine Insurance Co., the brig Rockingham, grounded at Currituck Inlet, on the northern end of the Outer Banks.

In the claims files for the incident, I read that the Rockingham’s master, Nathaniel F. Adams, gave sworn testimony that he and his crew had sailed from the British colony of Grenada, in the Windward Islands, bound for Norfolk, Virginia, on Christmas Eve 1803.

Capt. Adams did not indicate the Rockingham’s cargo, but Grenada was another notorious slave labor colony and had recently repressed yet another slave rebellion.

Over a period of 125 years, the British, and the French before them, had shipped an estimated 125,000 Africans to Grenada to serve as their workforce there.

By 1803, when the Rockingham was there, the vast majority of the island’s slaves were confined on sugarcane, coffee, and tobacco plantations. When the brig sailed for Norfolk, its hold was likely full of the products that they had been forced to produce, most likely sugar, rum, and/or molasses.

According to Capt. Adam’s testimony, the Rockingham had a “pleasant breeze” and smooth sailing for the first few weeks of the voyage.

That changed on the 17^th of January 1804. On that date, the captain testified, “a heavy Gale from the northward and westward … blew us off the coast again and continued heavy Gales from the northward and westward until Saturday the 21^{st .”}

For a day they enjoyed fair winds again, as they found themselves nearing Chesapeake Bay.

But only a few hours later, on January 22^nd, a northeasterly snowstorm hit the Rockingham, pushed her back south, and pressed her hard against a lee shore. Soon her crew was struggling desperately to keep her beyond the breakers.

Captain Adams reported:

“… a Heavy Gale the wind about NE bent our cables, close leafed our Topsails & [illegible] up our Foresail[,] the Gale still Increasing and snowing tremendously…. 11 AM saw the land on our lee beam close on board[,] then wore ship and stood to the southward….”

As Adams continued, he recalled that the Rockingham “… just cleared the breakers, continued on to the south and nearly in the breakers the sea making one continual break over us until ½ past 4 PM.”

At that point, he testified, “finding it impossible to keep off any longer,” he made the decision to run the brig onto the beach at Currituck Inlet, a desperate move but the only one he had.

He did so, he said, “for the preservation of our lives and what of our property we could save….”

At the time that Capt. Adams gave his testimony, the Rockingham was still grounded at Currituck Inlet. She was evidently battered and beaten, but must have found a decent place to go aground.

Only nine months later, in fact, a Baltimore newspaper reported that the Rockingham was back at sea.

She had arrived in Portsmouth, Virginia, having sailed from Turks Island, presumably with a cargo of salt. (Baltimore American, 31 Oct. 1804, courtesy of the Maryland State Archives.)

I am not sure why, but I did not find any record of the damage to the Rockingham, its cargo losses, or any potential casualties in the insurance records at the Portsmouth Athenaeum.

The intent of Capt. Adams’ account was clear, however. He sought to convince the insurance company’s appraisers that the brig’s damages were due to an act of God, and thus insured, rather than a result of recklessness or poor seamanship, and thus not covered by the company’s policy.

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A couple months after the Rockingham ran aground at Currituck Inlet, another vessel insured by the New Hampshire Fire and Marine Insurance Co. was also struggling off the Outer Banks.

This was the sloop Polly, which sailed out of York, Maine, a seaport 10 miles north of Portsmouth.

In a claims report dated `March 1804, the Polly’s master, Henry Donnell, his first mate Joseph Vondy, and seaman William D. Molton described a voyage from St. Martin to New Bern, North Carolina.

St. Martin, or St. Maarten, is another island in the Caribbean, the northern side of which was a French colony and the southern side of which was a Dutch colony.

At the turn of the 18^th century, when the Polly traded there, the large majority of the island’s population were enslaved African laborers.

The Polly sailed from St. Martin on the 4^th of March. The sloop enjoyed fair winds until the 24^thof March “when the wind blowing a gale …  carried away the jib stay . . ., and in about two hours after, carried away the back of the mainsail.” 

The three mariners added: “The wind still continuing to blow a gale[,] they sprung the bowsprit at about 12 o’clock.”

On the 25^th of March, they were given a respite. “The wind blew fresh, they took in the jib & set the foresail…. The wind [proved] moderate the latter part of the day, they set the jib and shook the reefs out of the mainsail & stood to the Northward….”

 Two days later though, a gale hit them with new force, “the wind coming on to blow violently at one o’clock P.M.”

The storm carried away the Polly’s main boom and shredded the foresail “all to pieces.”

The gale kept coming. Even two days later, on the 28^th, to quote the claims report again, “the wind continued to blow with great violence & a heavy sea.” Soon the winds sprung the main mast and carried away the cross trees and much of what little was left of the sails.

The Polly was left adrift. The crew spent the next day making a new foresail out of old canvas and repairing the rigging.

They then continued to stagger toward Ocracoke Inlet, on North Carolina’s Outer Banks.

On the 2^nd of April, they finally made land north of Cape Hatteras, then ran past Diamond Shoals. By noon the next day, the Polly had reached the bar at Ocracoke Inlet.

They anchored by the inlet that night. The next morning, an Ocracoke pilot sailed out to the Polly and guided her through the inlet and into safe harbor behind Portsmouth Island.

“The current setting strong and the wind being light, they did not get over the Bar until three o’clock P.M. and at four ‘clock came to with the best Bower in Wallace’s Channel, and on the 7^th following they arrived at New Bern…”.

At that time, New Bern might as well have been a port in the West Indies, by the look and feel of the place.

The large numbers of enslaved Africans, the multitude of languages spoken along the docks, and the vibrancy of the songs heard in the town’s streets– all gave the little port that feeling. Indeed, to many visitors, the seaport seemed a far outpost of the Caribbean Sea.

The Polly’s crew must have felt right at home, surrounded, as they were, by seamen from far and wide, and of many races and creeds, many of whom, like them, knew the perils of the sea.

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In the New Hampshire Fire and Marine Insurance Co.’s records, I also found three other claims for damages that involved the North Carolina coast. The oldest of those manuscripts, an affidavit dated Nov. 25, 1804, concerned the schooner Dolphin, Ephraim Sutton, master.

That affidavit gave few details but made clear that the Dolphin had been damaged in a storm while sailing from Cape Fear to Portsmouth the previous October.

Another claim, also lacking in detail, concerned a brig named the Reward. According to that claim, the Reward “was cast on shore, at a place called Ocracock, on the coast of North Carolina” either in the last weeks of 1804 or the first weeks of 1805.

A final claim for damages involved a brig called the Forest, another vessel that sailed out of York, Maine. That claim concerned a relatively minor incident, but it provided some interesting details.

In the winter of 1817, the Forest had sailed from Basse-Terre, one of the islands that made up the French colony of Guadeloupe.

At that time, almost 90 percent of Guadeloupe’s population, some 90,000 men, women, and children in all, were enslaved Africans who had been taken from their homelands and forced to work on the colony’s plantations (or were the first generation’s children and grandchildren).

According to the affidavit of Capt. John Perkins, the brig’s master, the Forest left Guadeloupe, presumably having filled its hold with sugar or other goods produced by those enslaved Africans.

 She was bound for Portsmouth but was waylaid evidently by storms on the North Carolina coast.

As Capt. Perkins testified, he and his crew “arrived off Cape Fear and saw Bald Head Light House on the 20^th of … February, and made a signal for a pilot.”

With a gale rising from the south, none of local pilots responded to the Forest’s signal. Fearful of running the inlet without a pilot, Capt. Perkins ordered the crew to anchor outside of the Cape Fear River’s bar for the night.

The strength of the storm continued to grow throughout the night. By first light, the seas had grown so nasty that the captain “judged it would be unsafe to lay any longer at anchor.”

He decided “that it would be most prudent, and was necessary, for the safety of the Crew, as well as the preservation of the Vessel and Cargo, to slip the Cable… and make …  his way in over the Bar, without a Pilot.”

The Forest’s crew “slipped the cable,” abandoning the anchor and chain, and managed to make it  over the bar and into a safe harbor.

As I did not find any record of damage to the Forest, I assumed that the insurance claim was for the loss of the brig’s anchor and cable, a relatively small but not inconsequential expense.

Seen in that light, the level of detail in the claims report was meant make it plain that slipping the cable was necessary, given the storm’s dangers, rather than an act of panic or foolhardiness.

-7-

By the time I finished at the Athenaeum, a hard rain was falling. The library’s last patron, other than me, had gone home, and one of the curators and I walked around the library together.

He told me who was who in the old oil paintings, and we talked about the relics, seemingly in every nook and cranny, that had come from sea voyages and distant seaports many years ago.

It was a cozy way to spend a day, listening to the rain and getting swept up in the scenes of shipwrecks and storms that were described in the New Hampshire Fire and Marine Insurance Co.’s records.

At lunchtime, when it was only drizzling, I had walked down to the banks of the Piscataqua, and then over to where, long ago, the waterfront district called Puddle Dock used to be.

Once upon a time, salt marshes and oyster bays were found on that edge of the seaport. Built up over the water, ramshackle fish houses, sailors’ boardinghouses, canneries, and ship chandleries had stood there. Perhaps a brothel, dance hall, and tavern or two, or three, as well.

A sailor’s world. Sea-salt air. Grimy. Raw sewage in the tidal creeks. People of all colors and faiths. People that had been places, most of them. Had seen things. Knew things. Full of life.

The marsh and oyster beds are long gone now, filled in, replaced with a park and a lovely museum and cobbled streets that at least on a cold and rainy day were empty, quiet, and still.

As I walked those misty vacant streets, my thoughts turned back to the records that I had been reading at the Portsmouth Athenaeum.

I thought about all the slave colonies I had seen listed just in the few claims reports that I had been looking at– Grenada, Guadeloupe, Martinique, Grand Turk, St. Maarten and St. Martin.

And I thought of the seaports on the North Carolina coast, which were not that different, their business grounded in shipping the crops that enslaved laborers grew, the lumber they cut, the fish they caught.

As I came out of the rain and into the Athenaeum, I thought as well of the first-person accounts of shipwrecks and storms that I had been reading that morning.

I thought of those sailors on that lee shore at Currituck Banks, looking out over the breakers, eyeing their end.

I thought about all those on the Alligator, the Polly, and the Rockingham, the Forest, the Reward, and the Dolphin. I imagined them watching the waves roll over the decks, the dark and endless sea all around them.

I thought as well of the people on the nearest shores. Perhaps someplace like Ocracoke Island or, closer to where I grew up, Cape Lookout.

I imagined them: the sky still clear, maybe just the first signs of trouble visible on the horizon. I saw them walking along the beach and scavenging driftwood or digging clams or watching over children playing in tidal pools, unknowing, like all of us, of all that was happening out in the great, wide sea.

Editor’s note: Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the state’s coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

From Cecelski: This is the 26th photograph in my photo-essay “Working Lives”– looking at the stories behind the photographs in the N.C. Department of Conservation and Development Collection (1937-1953) at the State Archives in Raleigh.

In this photograph, we see workers slaughtering and canning sea turtles at a cannery in Marshallberg, N.C., September 1938.

According to a story in the Raleigh News & Observer that was published a year earlier, March 21, 1937, the cannery’s owner, Carroll Crocket, hailed from Crisfield, Maryland, one of the busiest fishing ports on the Chesapeake Bay.

In the 1890s, Crockett’s father, A.R. Crockett, was among a group of Crisfield oyster dealers that began coming south in search of new oystering grounds. He was drawn above all to Core Sound and particularly to the stretch of quiet bays and marshlands between Harkers Island and Smyrna.

In or about 1897, he established an oyster cannery at Marshallberg, a village located on that part of Core Sound.

The village sits on a a peninsula shaped by Core Sound, a lovely bay called Sleepy Creek, and a body of water called the Straits that runs between Marshallberg and Harkers Island.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, Crisfield fishermen also played an important role in bringing the soft-shell crab industry to Marshallberg. In the late 1930s, when this photograph was taken, soft-shell crabbing was still a big business on Core Sound and Marshallberg was home to the state’s busiest soft-shell crab fishery.

A.R. Crockett’s oyster cannery does not seem to have lasted very long. However, following in his father’s footsteps, Carroll Crockett opened his cannery in Marshallberg in 1937.

At that time, Marshallberg was a threadbare but bustling little village. If you had visited that part of Down East in those days, you would have found a cluster of homes, a highly regarded boatyard, a crowd of fish houses, a crab-packing plant, two or three general stores, a pair of churches, and a school.

In the 1930s, Marshallberg was also an important shipping point for local truck crops, especially sweet potatoes.

A generation earlier, the village had also been the site of an important preparatory school called Graham Academy. Launched by northern missionaries after the Civil War, the Star of Bethlehem Church, most often just called the “Star Church” by locals, got its early support from women associated with the Methodist Missionary Society of Boston in 1874.

Founded 12 years later, in 1888, the academy was renown for providing a classical education to the children of oystermen and fisherwomen, as well as to the well-heeled from many other parts of eastern North Carolina, and for turning out some of the the region’s finest teachers.

The academy also had a lasting impact on Marshallberg. Again and again, old-time Marshallbergers have told me how the school’s teachers, the influx of students from other parts of eastern North Carolina, and the cultural events held at the school shaped them and gave the village a somewhat different air than other villages Down East.

Though Marshallberg remained a busy fishing port in the 1930s, the Great Depression was still hard in the village, as it was on all of Down East. For many people, soul-cripplingly hard.

To learn more about Marshallberg’s history, be sure to visit the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island. The museum’s webpage also includes a special section on Marshallberg’s history.

In addition, in 1938 many local people were still just getting their feet back on the ground after the great 1933 hurricane.

The ’33 storm had laid waste to much of Marshallberg. According to news reports, the hurricane washed away docks, fish houses, and boats by the score and destroyed or seriously damaged some 30 homes.

When the cannery opened in 1937, Carroll Crockett announced that he expected to employ some 150 seasonal workers. Given the hard times, the Marshallbergers must have welcomed the cannery’s arrival.

In addition to the cannery in Marshallberg, Carroll Crockett established at least half-a-dozen other canneries on the North Carolina coast in the 1930s and ’40s: a shrimp cannery in Wilmington, oyster canneries in Beaufort and Washington, and canneries focused more on tomatoes and other truck produce in Kinston, New Bern and Windsor.

* * *

According to the News & Observer, the Marshallberg cannery’s workers canned tomatoes in the summertime.

Then, in the fall and winter, they shucked and canned oysters and clams.

Shucking clams and oysters was cold, wet work, hard on the body and not infrequently debilitating. Many a time, when I was younger and more of them were still with us, the men and women who used to do that kind of work in Down East canneries told me how it made them feel old before their time.

On the other hand, Marshallberg’s people were no strangers to hard work, and times were hard. Few turned down a job because it wasn’t easy, if only because there were no easy jobs to be had.

Evidently, when they had neither clams nor oysters, nor tomatoes or other truck crops, they at least occasionally turned to canning sea turtles.

* * *

I am not aware of any cannery on the North Carolina coast that focused primarily on sea turtles.

In the late 19th century, such canneries did exist for a short time in the Florida Keys and in a few places on the Gulf of Mexico, where the most desirable of sea turtles for making turtle soup — green turtles, (Chelonia mydas) — were far more abundant than on the North Carolina coast.

Those canneries in Key West and the Gulf Coast did not last long. Even by the 1890s, the mass killing of sea turtles, as well as the harvesting of their eggs, had driven them close to extinction in many parts of the Florida and Texas coast.

As early as 1900, the sea turtle fisheries in Florida and other parts of the Gulf Coast had, with one or two exceptions, shut down. From that time on, the harvesting of sea turtles was done almost exclusively for local consumption or when sea turtles were caught as “by-catch” by fishermen engaged in other fisheries.

The highly prized green turtles were also found in North Carolina’s coastal waters, but far less frequently than in more tropical seas.

Loggerhead turtles (Caretta caretta) were far more common on the North Carolina coast.

Though their meat was darker, oilier, and considered less desirable than that of green turtles, loggerheads were still sold to be used in turtle soup. I can’t be sure, but I assume that loggerheads made up the bulk of the sea turtles caught on the Outer Banks and other parts of the North Carolina coast.

The luxury market for turtle soup was always the driving force behind the sea turtle fishery in the United States. However, the oil of sea turtles was also put to use at least occasionally. According to an article called “The Origin, Evolution, and Demise of the U.S. Sea Turtle Fisheries” that appeared in NOAA’s Marine Fisheries Review in 1994, the oil of loggerhead turtles was sometimes sold as a leather softener and fishermen in some places coated the bottom of their boats with loggerhead oil in order to discourage worm damage.

Compared to Florida or the Caribbean, a far smaller fishery for sea turtles had existed on the North Carolina coast since at least the 1880s.

In 1885, for instance, according to the June 9, 1885, issue of New Bern’s Daily Journal, a man identified as “Mr. K. Willis” was “the champion turtle hunter” on the waters around Swansboro.

The newspaper reported that Mr. Willis used a 20- or 30-yard-long, wide-meshed net to capture  29 “large sea turtle” over a two-day period.

More than likely, he was the kind of man that did a little bit of everything around the water, a “progger,” they would have called him on some parts of the North Carolina coast.

However, on most parts of the North Carolina coast, a fisherman or woman might make a turtle stew now and then, but they were unlikely to make much profit from catching them.

* * *

That could be seen on Hatteras Island in 1901. According to a visitor to the island that winter, the keeper at the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse spied a dozen sea turtles just offshore a couple weeks before Christmas.

Writing in the Baltimore Sun March 31, 1902, the visitor recalled that the lighthouse keeper used some kind of meat as bait to catch three of the turtles with a hook and line.

The Sun’s correspondent asked the lighthouse keeper what he had done with the sea turtles.

According to the article, “he replied that there was no market there, and the lighthouse crowd didn’t eat turtles, so he sent them as a present to the Cape station of life savers, where they were acceptable.”

I think that was quite typical on the Outer Banks, where, to my knowledge, there were never any canneries that handled sea turtles.

Of course at that time, there were also no restaurants on Hatteras Island that might have been interested in putting turtle soup on their menu. There were no restaurants at all on the island. For that matter, no bridges to the island had yet been built and no roads on the island had yet been paved.

Now and then, an Outer Banks waterman might stow a live sea turtle in a shipment of salt mullet or shad and make a few dollars if it found a buyer at the docks in Norfolk or New Bern or Elizabeth City.

But overall, at least on the Outer Banks, sea turtles were generally one of the sea’s creatures that the islanders kept for themselves and, even then, partook of only every once and awhile.

* * *

On the Outer Banks, that did not seem to change later in the 20th century. On April 7, 1929, for instance, a correspondent of the News & Observer reported that Ocracoke Island fishermen had recently captured “dozens of sea turtles weighing from 200 to 500 pounds.”

The turtles, he said, were bound either for local kitchens or cast back into the sea.

“Here the natives bring the turtles ashore and make soup or hash from them, or if they are not in a turtle eating notion they throw them overboard as there is hardly any market for this species of turtle.”

There were canneries just to the south, though.

Even in the late 1800s, canneries operated in North Carolina’s larger coastal towns, including Morehead City and Beaufort, but now and then also in some of the more remote fishing villages along Core Sound.

For a few years, for instance, a Long Island, New York, company operated a clam cannery in Atlantic, called Hunting Quarters then. Smyrna was home to an oyster cannery, and there was even a cannery or two at Diamond City, out on the island called Shackleford Banks, prior to all the villagers leaving the island in the late 19th and early 20th century.

How often, if at all, those canneries handled sea turtles, I do not know. Their real business was elsewhere — in oysters, above all — but perhaps like the cannery in Marshallberg, they may sometimes have slaughtered and canned sea turtles on a small scale when the turtles were available and the cannery workers did not have anything more profitable to do.

As was always the case with catching and butchering the sea’s larger creatures — whales, dolphins, sharks — sea turtle canning was a grim business.

A casual visitor with a weak stomach or a soft spot for the welfare of wild animals was bound to be alarmed by a visit to any of those enterprises.

In September 1938, the same month this photograph was taken, such an individual did visit the cannery in Marshallberg.

That individual’s name was Edward Peyton “Ted” Harris, and he was a playwright and theater actor originally from Greenville.

I do not know how Harris came to be in Marshallberg. Judging from the timing of a letter that he wrote to the Raleigh News & Observer, he and the photographer who took this photograph very likely visited the cannery together.

I only know about Ted Harris’s tour of the cannery because the News & Observer published his letter. In that letter, he expressed outrage over the treatment of the sea turtles at the Marshallberg cannery.

He had seen the holding pen in which the sea turtles were kept until it was time to slaughter them. That was standard practice: sea turtle canneries typically kept captured turtles alive until the workers had enough to make it worth their while to slaughter and can them. In some cases, that was days, but in other cases they were held in captivity for weeks or months.

Of the turtles’ living conditions at the cannery, Ted Harris wrote:

“Yesterday… an attendant showed us a dozen sea-turtles penned up for slaughter. Boxes hedged them about on a dry concrete floor. There was  no provision for feeding them or giving them the water they need worse than food. One had already died. The workman assured us … that this one would not become the main ingredient for some unsuspecting purchaser’s soup. However, those that remained alive could not be in good condition when the ax ends their suffering.”

In his letter, Harris indicated that he wanted to bring the sea turtles’ living conditions to the attention of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, as well as to the local health department.

He also noted, by way of a coda, that the worker that was his tour guide at the cannery had told him, on the side, that “he himself would never eat canned turtle, having watched the canning.”

 * * *

The Status of Sea Turtles Today

In a 1994 article titled “The Origin, Evolution, and Demise of the U.S. Sea Turtle Fisheries,” a NOAA marine scientist named W. N. Witzell wrote:

“Commercial fisheries, habitat destruction, and pollution has had a devastating impact on both U.S. and world sea turtle populations. The U.S. Endangered Species Act of 1973 and subsequent amendments has provided the legislation needed to prevent the extinction of these magnificent animals in the northwestern Atlantic Ocean [including the North Carolina coast].”

Today, with the aide of the N.C. Wildlife Commission’s NC Sea Turtle Project, more than 20 different community groups are monitoring sea turtle nesting and stranding activities on the North Carolina coast. (You can find a list here.)

At the same time, state and federal agencies are increasingly working hand-in-hand with the commercial fishing industry to protect sea turtles from being accidentally caught in fishing nets.

Through their efforts, sea turtle populations have begun making a significant comeback in recent decades.

Much progress has been accomplished in the last half century. However, recent political developments in the U.S. have put into doubt the future of sea turtles and all other endangered species that rely on the protections of the Endangered Species Act, the vitality of the Environmental Protection Agency, and/or the ongoing research work of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, all of which have played key roles in the preservation of sea turtles here in the U.S. and around the world.

You can’t help but wonder what Reaves Chapel’s first parishioners would think if they were around to see the little church in Navassa today.

Would they marvel at the fact that the chapel they’d built more than a century ago on the bluffs of the Cape Fear River in Brunswick County will serve as a testament to their existence?

Could they begin to comprehend the tens of thousands of dollars it cost to painstakingly restore the church to its former glory?

Perhaps they’d share feelings similar to those of the people who’ve devoted years to seeing a project through to preserve one of the oldest African American buildings in southeastern North Carolina.

“Every time we’ve been there this year and walked in with the new floor in and finished, it’s nothing but full body joy,” said Jesica Blake, North Carolina Coastal Land Trust associate director. “Reaves Chapel and other structures in other places that have ties to the history in African American communities are very few and far between. Time and weather and lack of resources have all come in to play in making it so there’s not a lot there and so it’s really important for this original structure that can tell so many layers of history can be protected. Now it will stand for generations to come.”

The chapel in Navassa is set to be dedicated on Friday, marking the end of a long chapter in the building’s storied history, one that enshrines at least some fraction of the lives of those formerly enslaved at Cedar Hill Plantation.

“In terms of history, what really is good about this facility is that it will be a living tribute to exactly what happened and you can tell a story and you will have a visual,” said Henry Robbins, treasurer of the Cedar Hill/West Bank Heritage Foundation.

It’s a story that one of the church’s former congregants, Al Beatty, spent the better part of the last 15 years of his life fighting to preserve.

Beatty helped form the Cedar Hill/West Bank Foundation in 2011 in an effort to save Reaves Chapel. By that time the church had fallen into dilapidation, its doors long since closed to a congregation that filled its pews donning their Sunday Best.

As Robbins put it, “Al had the idea some years ago of restoring the facility, but he didn’t have the finances to do it.”

So Beatty turned to the Coastal Land Trust in 2015 and, about four years later, the land trust purchased the chapel with money from the Orton Foundation, the North Carolina affiliate of The Moore Charitable Foundation, which supports cultural and historic restoration initiatives in the Cape Fear River Basin.

The project faced what seemed like a myriad of obstacles that kept both Blake and Beatty on an emotional rollercoaster-like ride with climbs of anxiety and plunges of laughter.

After the Coastal Land Trust purchased the chapel in 2019, the first of two stabilization efforts ensued. Beatty and Blake watched in agony as the chapel, by then in a significant state of disrepair, visibly shake as its steeple was removed.

The following year introduced the COVID-19 pandemic, one that ultimately shut down much of the world. Fundraising was hard to do because potential donors could not be ushered to the church. The building materials needed to restore the chapel significantly rose in both cost and demand during that time.

This all slowed the restoration process, leaving the chapel vulnerable to coastal storms and hurricanes.

“The church was degrading quickly,” Blake said. “It wouldn’t have remained standing if we’d had a big storm. It was holding on.”

All told, the project cost doubled to more than $1 million. That price tag includes the church restoration, landscaping, parking lot and detached restrooms on the property.

Blake and Beatty met at the chapel just a couple of weeks ago, near giddy as they strode into the finished product of their longtime labor of love.

Beatty will be noticeably absent at Friday’s dedication. He died Feb. 21. He was 74.

In a 2022 interview with Coastal Review, Beatty shared childhood memories of attending Reaves Chapel with his family. On Easter Sundays, he and the other children had to recite from the pulpit short speeches intertwined with scripture.

By then, the chapel had been relocated by its congregation, using logs and a team of oxen, inland on land Ed Reaves, a former Cedar Hill Plantation slave, donated to the church in 1911. The church eventually became affiliated with the African Methodist Episcopal denomination and remained an AME church until its doors closed permanently in the mid-2000s.

Reaves Chapel will not be a regularly functioning church. The heritage foundation and land trust hope the chapel will become a state historic site, one that may be used by the community from time to time.

Beatty was actively planning the upcoming dedication ceremony before his death.

“Really it’s a shame,” Robbins said. “He saw the church come to the conclusion with respect to restoration, but he won’t be able to see the other side of the restoration.”

Blake said she would give anything for Beatty to be there with her Friday.

“But I know he’ll be there anyway,” she said.

The dedication will be part of a series of special events leading up to Leland’s annual North Carolina Rice Festival set for Saturday. For more information visit www.northcarolinaricefestival.org

The Reaves Chapel dedication is invitation-only. Those who would like to reserve a spot at Friday’s ceremony may email Blake at jesica@coastallandtrust.org.

Invitations will be made available on a first-come, first-served basis as limited space is available.

While boaters, beachgoers and coastal North Carolinians alike are familiar with the state’s well-trafficked waterways at the mouth of the Cape Fear River, there’s a less famous inlet with a unique name and the history to match.

Lockwood Folly Inlet separates present-day Oak Island and Holden Beach. It is the endpoint of Lockwood Folly River, a 25-mile-long waterway that flows through central and southern Brunswick County before emptying into the inlet.

In addition to being a productive outlet for boaters and fishermen, Lockwood Folly Inlet is a historical curiosity. Its location and name shed light on a period of North Carolina history overshadowed by the Lost Colony when 117 English settlers disappeared from Roanoke Island in the late 1580s, or the Albemarle settlements.

The name of Lockwood Folly Inlet dates back to the 17th century to a mostly forgotten episode during the settlement of North Carolina. That episode, if successful, would have directly changed the fate of the colony and cured it of the “general economic backwardness,” according to historian Hugh Lefler, that defined its colonial reputation.

Though Lockwood Folly Inlet is one of the more stable — its size and surrounding sandbars shift regularly — at only around 100 feet wide and sometimes only a few feet deep, the inlet doesn’t allow for sizable ships.

As a result, it has not been the site of significant development over the past four centuries. The inlet was never a proposed site for a major dredging project or a new town like Beaufort or Roanoke.

This limited development has likely been a reason why the inlet has kept its unique name for centuries. Much of the speculation about the inlet’s name has focused on the titular “folly” involved.

One early theory was that the “folly” was a boat built so large that it could not sail out of the river. Louis T. Moore argued in a 1948 article for The State magazine, now known as Our State, that the name instead came from an attempted settlement or house by a man named Lockwood in the 18th century.

Moore said that the homestead was destroyed by Native Americans he mistreated. As the author described, the “folly” resulted when “a man unable to control his temper or passions later was punished by being driven from the place he intended as his home.”

While writers have worked hard to explain the second half of the inlet’s name, they have done much less to figure out the first half. Few people have researched who Lockwood actually was. Who was the man who built the ship that could not sail, or who made the failed settlement?

In order to solve that mystery, one must go back to the earliest attempts to settle North Carolina, several of which have been almost lost to history.

Moore posited that Lockwood Folly received its name in the early to mid-18th century, with Lockwood likely being a settler during that time.

That period would have been after the 1720s when James Moore and his family first settled the Cape Fear River.

The 1720s was the traditional start of European settlement in that area, the time when North Carolinians discovered the Cape Fear as a productive outlet to the ocean and began establishing some of their largest towns on it.

Seeming to confirm this theory is the presence of Lockwood Folly on maps as early as the Edward Moseley map of 1733. Moseley held political appointments between 1715 and 1749. But Lockwood Folly is not just on the Moseley map, it is also on the Herman Moll map of 1708 and William Fisher’s “New Mapp of Carolina” dated to 1698. Both Moll and Fisher were London, England, mapmakers.

The earliest map that contains a place named Lockwood Folly is the Ogilby map from around 1671. Taken from an influential book on the Americas published by British author John Ogilby, the map, “A new discription of Carolina by the order of the Lords Proprietors,” was drawn decades before North Carolina’s first incorporated town and less than 10 years after the Lords Proprietor first received their Carolinas grant in 1663. It was one of the first maps drawn that focused primarily on North Carolina after the Lost Colony.

Given many of the other details on this map, the most likely explanation for Lockwood Folly is that it was named after a man who was part of one of two lost British colonies of the Cape Fear area.

The first, founded by explorer and Hilton Head’s namesake William Hilton, was settled by Puritans from New England in 1663. After the Puritans quickly abandoned the area, a somewhat more successful colony was formed by Barbadians led by the Yeamans and Vassall families.

This Cape Fear colony, identified by historian Lindley Butler as “the first English town in the Carolina propriety,” included enslaved people from Africa and committed to producing food and goods to support Barbados. The colony lasted only three years before Native American attacks, a lack of supplies, and disasters in England led to its abandonment.

Lockwood was not a known member of either the colonies or the initial William Hilton expedition. But of the dozen or so Cape Fear area names on the Ogilby map, several were from the Hilton and Yeamans expeditions.

One of these was a region labeled Long’s Delight, likely named after Capt. Anthony Long, a leader of the Hilton expedition. Another was Turkey Quarters, an area noted by the Barbadians for its large number of turkeys.

The Barbadian connection with Lockwood is bolstered by a story from James Sprunt’s influential 1914 book, “Chronicles of the Cape Fear River,” which combined historical narrative with local legends and stories.

In one section, Sprunt, inspired by a 1734 travelogue, wrote of the inlet’s name, “One Lockwood, from Barbados, however, made a settlement farther to the south [of another proposed settlement up the Cape Fear], which the Indians destroyed, and hence the name to this day of ‘Lockwood’s Folly.’”

While we may never know exactly who Lockwood was, the Barbadian lineage in Sprunt’s tale would appear to corroborate the theory that he may have been part of the Barbadian colony.

The early settlement of the Cape Fear River is a fascinating what-if in North Carolina history. Cape Fear is a more stable and hospitable inlet to shipping than those by the Albemarle Sound.

It might have quickly fostered towns like Beaufort in South Carolina or Norfolk in Virginia.

Instead of existing for 50 years as an almost-forgotten backwater, North Carolina might have grown faster and with a more refined air had it been originally settled at Cape Fear.

Along with Rocky Point, Lockwood Folly Inlet is one of the two last remnants on a North Carolina map of the Hilton and Yeamans colonies. Other names like Long’s Delight have disappeared from use and have no modern equivalent, illustrating the forgotten nature of the 1660s Cape Fear expeditions.

Clarification: Dr. Smallwood is a descendant of the Tuscarora people, not the Cherokee. During his presentation when he said “we were Cherokees” he was explaining that many Native descendants assumed that Cherokee was their heritage. This story has been updated for clarity.

MOREHEAD CITY — About 50 made their way to Mug Shot Caffeine and Cocktails on a chilly Saturday afternoon in mid-January to hear Dr. Arwin D. Smallwood explain “The History of the Coree and Neusiok Native Americans of Carteret County, North Carolina.”

Smallwood was the first to present for Coastal Carolina Riverwatch’s new initiative, “Cultural Perspectives Series: Coastal Indigenous Communities and Ecological Wisdom.” The nonprofit organization works to protect the water bodies, estuaries and coastline in the White Oak River Basin, mostly in Carteret, Jones, Onslow and Pender counties.

“I’m still just an ol’ country boy from eastern North Carolina, and that’s never left me, and it’s still a part of who I am,” Smallwood began. “I grew up in Bertie County in Indian Woods,” which was the old Tuscarora reservation established in 1717.

Now the dean of the College of Liberal Arts at North Carolina Central University in Durham, Smallwood has spent his career studying the relationships among African Americans, Native Americans and Europeans in eastern North Carolina during the colonial and early antebellum periods.

During his presentation when he said that while growing up in Indian Woods, “we were Cherokees” and “grandma was Cherokee, right?” he was illustrating that many Native descendants assumed their heritage was Cherokee because the Tuscaroras’ history had largely been erased.

Smallwood said that he never fully understood who the Tuscarora and other Native groups in eastern North Carolina were until he was a student at N.C. Central, where he earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees.

“We didn’t know anything much about our community, other than we’ve always been from there,” he said. “I knew all my family and all my people, but we didn’t know very much about the history of the area beyond our family lore and family stories.”

In a class on state history he read “North Carolina: The History of a Southern State,” written by “two great professors out of Chapel Hill,” Hugh Talmage Lefler and Albert Ray Newsome.

They mentioned his community, Indian Woods, by name in the first chapter, and “I said to myself, if this is significant enough to be in this book from these two great Carolina scholars, then it must be significant,” Smallwood explained. This inspired him to commit his life to learning and researching as much as possible about Native peoples, particularly Tuscaroras and those in eastern North Carolina.

Smallwood went on to earn his doctorate in early U.S. and African American history from the Ohio State University, and has held positions at North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University in Greensboro, the University of Memphis in Memphis, Tennessee, and Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois.

Smallwood said that, because he was presenting in Morehead City, he narrowed the focus of his talk to the Coree and Neusiok of Carteret County, who are among several groups in the region of Iroquois origin and have a connection to the Tuscarora whom he studies.

The Iroquois are an ancient people who migrated from Central America and Mexico thousands of years ago, to what is now the Midwest, then to what is now the state of New York. Many moved south from there, following the valleys and rivers, eventually reaching eastern North Carolina.

The Coree, Neusiok, Tuscarora, Meherrin and Nottoway, who straddle the Virginia and North Carolina border, are Iroquois, or the Haudenosaunee people. “We call them Iroquois. It was a name given to them by the French, but their Native name is Haudenosaunee,” or people of the long house.

“The Iroquois said that they had a confederation,” Smallwood continued. “If you attack one of the Iroquois, you attack them all. If you attack the Mohawks, then all of the Haudenosaunee would attack you. If you attack the Tuscarora, all of the Haudenosaunee and the Allies will attack you. They were a family. They were all kin.”

The Tuscaroras were the largest and most powerful group at one time and were scattered all over eastern North Carolina, from Virginia to the Cape Fear River. The population began to decline as early as Spanish contact in the late 1400s and early 1500s. By the start of the Tuscarora War in 1711, disease and conflict caused the once-heavily inhabited region to depopulate.

There were a “host of other Indians in Coastal North Carolina,” Smallwood said, and while some were Algonquian-speaking peoples, they were allied with the Tuscaroras and Corees at the start of the Tuscarora War, “and that war was as much about control of this region.”

After the Tuscarora war in the mid-1710s, “we call it the Tuscarora diaspora,” large numbers scattered all over North Carolina, Kentucky, West Virginia, Tennessee, eastern Ohio, Pennsylvania into Canada, and many returned to New York.

The Tuscarora had a sophisticated trade network spanning from the Outer Banks to as far south as Florida, as far north as Canada and as far west as Memphis.

The trading paths the Native people created are now the state roadways, like U.S. Highway 70 and N.C. 12, connecting old Native communities that are now North Carolina towns.

One reason the coastal areas were important for trade is the access to seashells. “Native Americans value seashells in the same way that Europeans value gold and silver, diamonds,” and other precious stones. Seashells had great spiritual meaning and were used as currency.

“And to trade, you had to speak Tuscarora. That was the trading language,” he said.

The maps Ralph Lane and John White illustrated when first reaching eastern North Carolina in 1584-85 show a well-established community with religious buildings, houses and gardens.

The Native people knew the land and cultivated for food or medicine different types of crops, many of which were introduced to the settlers and are still grown today. Smallwood gave the example of tobacco, which was originally ceremonial but is now a multibillion-dollar industry, corn, beans and white potatoes.

He recounted traditions from his childhood in Bertie County. Going out at night to fill up the bed of a truck with herring, having wild plums, strawberries, apples, pears and peaches, and watching his mother garden the way her mother did and her mother before her.

“I found that so many traditions and customs that we think are African American or European, are actually Native American and were transferred to us, and we have carried them on — cooking traditions, gardening habits and behaviors,” he said.

“We have passed them on from generation to generation. And we don’t even know why we did these things, but they were transferred somewhere when we were blending cultures,” Smallwood said.

The blending of cultures happened a handful of ways, including early white settlers marrying Native women, and white indentured servants and enslaved African Americans would run away places like the Great Dismal Swamp and intermix with the Native population.

“Our cultures are blended. Native, African and European, and it is what makes us Southern, what makes us American, what makes us North Carolinians,” but, “We’re different here in eastern North Carolina,” he said. “This is home, and we share a culture, and we share an identity, and that identity and that culture has been forged over hundreds of years.”

About the series

Riverwatch Executive Director Lisa Rider told Coastal Review that Smallwood’s “expertise in African American and Native American history, particularly in North Carolina, provides invaluable insights into the often-overlooked narratives that shape our understanding of the coastal communities we serve.”

The organizers launched the series that “recognizes the intertwined histories of African American and Indigenous communities in coastal North Carolina, emphasizing their shared heritage and contributions to ecological stewardship,” and are planning the next installment for this summer.

Secotan Alliance president and founder Gray Michael Parsons is scheduled to be the speaker Saturday, July 12, in Morehead City.

Riverwatch said that the Secotan Alliance’s inaugural symposium, “In the Spirit of Wingina and Beyond” held in May 2024 in Manteo inspired the cultural series. The theme for the 2025 symposium the last weekend in May is “Our Women: Leaders of Indigeneity.”

Parsons is a descendant of the Machapunga-Mattamuskeet people and has focused his efforts on honoring Indigenous leaders and promoting environmental stewardship. He is also the author of “Hope on Hatterask,” a work rooted in his Indigenous heritage.

Parsons founded the alliance “to educate the public on the traditional indigenous principles of the Secotan Alliance under the leadership of Chief Wingina.” The Secotan Alliance was first documented by the English at initial contact in 1584. The alliance territory included Dare, Hyde, Beaufort, Washington and Tyrrell counties. Chief Wingina was beheaded by the English military in June 1586 after an attempt to expand the alliance. 

Parsons told Coastal Review that his focus will be on providing a “functional definition and real world understanding of the ‘Indigenous Earth Ethic’ and the inclusive concept of what I refer to as ‘Indigen-us’.” 

He added that his goal is to empower all to see and understand their own deep indigenous ancestral identity as a part of the natural world.

“In doing so it is my hope that they will embrace and live a more sustainable life and thus one that is in what I call ‘Righteous Relationship with Creation,’” he said.

Editor’s note: Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the state’s coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

This is a special group of photographs that were taken on the Roanoke River, just west of Plymouth in the spring of 1939. Now preserved at the State Archives in Raleigh, they show the last days of two of the oldest herring seine fisheries on the North Carolina coast.

One of the herring fisheries, on the north side of the river, was called Kitty Hawk. The other, on the river’s south bank, was called Slade. They were owned by a local merchant, farmer and banker named W.R. “Roy” Hampton, whose family had operated the two fisheries since the first decade after the Civil War.

This is the first in a series of photo essays I’m writing on working lives on the North Carolina coast just before, during, and after the Second World War. The photographs all come from the N. C. Department of Conservation and Development Collection at the State Archives in Raleigh. 

In an interview with East Carolina University graduate student Charles L. Heath Jr. in 1997, Roy Hampton’s son recalled that the fishermen at his family’s fisheries had historically come from a community called Piney Woods, also known as Free Union, a historic multiracial settlement established by free African Americans and Native Americans in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

Over the years, I have written a good bit about the history of the herring fisheries on the Albemarle Sound and on two of its tributaries, the Chowan River, a blackwater stream that flows out of the Great Dismal Swamp, and the Roanoke, which flows out of the Appalachian foothills.

I imagine that the same could be said of all historians who have studied that part of the North Carolina coast in any depth.

For centuries, for millennia really, the herring fisheries were at the very heart of life on those shores.

Yearning to return to the waters where they began their lives, the herring left the Atlantic in the last days of winter and the first days of spring. Since time immemorial, great schools of the fish moved through Outer Banks inlets, passed into Albemarle Sound, and then continued upstream into the rivers and creeks that were their spawning grounds.

In a typical year, millions of fish, maybe billions, made the journey. By the 1840s and 1850s, when thousands of free and enslaved African Americans harvested herring in giant seines a mile or more in length, they sometimes caught 100,000 fish in a single haul and, on rare occasions, as many as half a million.

That was at the great seine fisheries on the Albemarle Sound, which were basically larger versions of the kind of fishery in these photographs from Plymouth. But the silvery little fish were there for one and all. On small creeks and streams, as well as in ditches, even the poorest souls could catch herring with a homemade bow net or a bushel basket.

Despite all I have written about the history of the herring fisheries, these photographs from Plymouth still stood out to me. They may not be as grand and awe-inspiring as some of the photographs, drawings, and paintings I have seen of the seine fisheries that flourished on the Albemarle Sound in earlier times, but I found them at least as compelling.

In the first place, they give us a glimpse at the seine fisheries on the Roanoke. I have previously written a little on the Roanoke’s herring fisheries, but both contemporary accounts and my and the work of other historians has focused far more on the even larger and more eye-opening fisheries that flourished on the Albemarle Sound and the Chowan River in the 19th century.

But African American fishermen, both free and enslaved laborers, were hauling herring seines on the Roanoke all that time as well. Even as late as 1896, several hundred fishermen and women operated eight seine fisheries within 10 miles of Plymouth.

Those fisheries included Kitty Hawk and Slade in Plymouth, two others 10 miles upriver in Jamesville, and four more downriver, between Plymouth and the Cashie River.

Each of those fisheries was the center of a little world. Each had its own history and its own folkways. No doubt each had its own celebrations, for there was no time of year when bellies were likely to be fuller or money more abundant.

No doubt each left its own scars too. The work was hard, the hours long — before sunup to past sundown — and the weather was often brutally cold. If ice had to be broken to make a set, ice was broken.

All of those fisheries were bound to the local history of slavery and plantation life, as well as, in many cases, to African American/Indian communities such as Piney Woods/Free Union.

At the very least, these photographs remind us that the Roanoke was once a place of abundance, and that the lives of its people were once bound inextricably to the natural world.

-2-

I also found these photographs compelling because of when they were taken.

The photographer, who was employed by the North Carolina Department of Conservation and Development, took the last of these photographs in the first few days of May 1939.

A few days later, the Kitty Hawk and Slade fisheries closed for the last time. For reasons I will discuss shortly, Roy Hampton had decided that the size of the herring catches had fallen so drastically that he could no longer justify the expense of labor, fishing gear and provisions.

The next winter, for the first time since before the Civil War, no seine fishermen made the journey down to the site of the Hampton family’s fisheries. The fishery’s women workers, the African American women who headed, gutted, and often helped salt the fish, also stayed home.

At least on that part of the Roanoke, the age of fishermen hauling the great herring seines and of raucous crowds gathering to watch them and dine on fried herring dinners was over.

Seen in that light, these photographs mark an historic moment: the end of one way of life, the coming of another, yet unknown.

 -3-

A final compelling feature of these photographs concerns the reason that Roy Hampton closed the two fisheries. He and many other fishermen were convinced that the steep decline in herring catches was due to the construction of a giant pulp mill on the Roanoke in 1937.

A division of a large, national wood and paper products corporation based in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the North Carolina Pulp Co. located its mill just upriver of the scenes in these photographs.

Plymouth, a small town of a couple thousands residents at that time, had never seen anything like it. The company’s smokestacks came to dominate the town’s skyline, as did the sulfurous smell of its furnaces. The company quickly bought or leased timberlands in at least five coastal counties, and thousands, many of them desperate to get off tenant farms, flocked to Plymouth to get jobs either in the mill or the company’s logging crews.

The arrival of the pulp mill made Plymouth into a “company town,” with the company being the North Carolina Pulp Co.

According to Hampton, the fishermen at the Slade and Kitty Hawk fisheries began seeing dramatic declines in their catches as soon as the pulp mill began releasing wastes into the Roanoke. The river’s waters smelled of sulfur, they claimed, and some reported fish kills.

At the end of the 1939 herring season, Hampton shuttered the Kitty Hawk and Slade fisheries. He kept them closed in 1940. Then, instead of reopening in 1941, he went to court.

In a pair of state and federal lawsuits, Hampton accused the North Carolina Pulp Co. of dumping untreated or inadequately treated sulphates into the Roanoke, poisoning the river’s waters and destroying the herring fisheries.

In a subsequent federal lawsuit, filed in 1943, Hampton sought $30,000 in damages, an enormous sum in that day. That lawsuit referred to the pulp mill’s wastes as “a wrongful and unlawful trespass and nuisance, destroying the fish inhabiting the water” where his fisheries were located.

At that time, Hampton could do little else. Prior to the Second World War, no state agency had the authority to regulate industrial pollutants or to set standards for pollutants in our waterways.

Federal law also provided very little meaningful regulation of pollutants.

That did not begin to change until the U.S. Congress passed the Federal Water Pollution Act of 1948.

Even then, federal regulation of water quality had little teeth. That did not change until environmental activists succeeded in pushing the Nixon Administration to create the Environmental Protection Agency in 1970 and prompted Congress to pass the Clean Water Act of 1972.

If the Trump Administration lives up to its promises, the EPA will be dismantled over the next four years. The Clean Water Act of 1972 may or may not continue to exist in name, but the protections that it has provided to our rivers and streams, to our fisheries, and to public health will disappear.

-4-

During the Second World War, Roy Hampton’s attorneys had some success in court, winning on issues of standing at the North Carolina Supreme Court and at the U. S. Court of Appeals in Richmond. For a summary of those court rulings, see Hampton v. N. C. Pulpwood Co.

However, the case does not seem to have gone any further. That may have been because of legal rulings in the lower courts, but it may also have been simply that Hampton lost heart and eventually accepted that the pulp mill, not the fisheries, was Plymouth’s future.

-5-

One by one, the last of the Roanoke’s herring seine fisheries closed. Slade and Kitty Hawk were among the last. I am aware of only one other seine fishery that was still in operation at the end of the Second World War.

That seine fishery was in Jamesville, seven miles upriver of the Kitty Hawk and Slade fisheries.

According to an April 16, 1950, story in the Raleigh News & Observer, that fishery was owned by C.C. Fleming, a businessman and political leader in Jamesville. Gus Hooper, a veteran African American waterman, was the head fisherman and the captain of the fishery’s seine boat.

The Jamesville fishery was still in business in 1955. At that time, the News & Observer April 24, 1955, referred to the seine fishery as “the only one of its type on the entire eastern seaboard.”

That herring season may have been the last for Fleming’s seine fishery. I cannot find any historical references to it after 1955.

Seines versus Bow Nets

I should note that many of the Roanoke’s herring fishermen did not shed tears over the demise of the seine fisheries.

Historically, many of the river’s people believed, probably with good reason, that the big seine fisheries took more than their fair share of herring — and shad, rockfish, perch and other fish to boot. In those people’s eyes, the seine fisheries deprived those of lesser means of food for their dinner tables.

As UNC-Chapel Hill professor Harry Watson showed in a splendid 1996 article in the Journal of American History, the more prosperous owners of seine fisheries and those who lived more hand-to-mouth had battled over access to the migratory fish on that part of the North Carolina coast since the 18th century.

They continued to do so even in the dying days of seine fishing.

C. C. Fleming’s seine fishery in Jamesville was a case in point. In 1952-53, Fleming used his political influence to persuade state legislators to give him a virtual monopoly over herring fishing on a mile-long stretch of the Roanoke.

-6-

Though an ominous sign of things to come, the closing of the seine fisheries in Plymouth and Jamesville did not mean the end of herring fishing on the Roanoke River.

For another half century, the arrival of the herring on the Roanoke remained a festive event. Up and down the river, people continued to catch herring. They just did not use the kinds of large seines, such as the ones in our photographs, that only made financial sense if there was a greater bounty of herring to be had.

Instead, they used a wide variety of lesser gear, including dragnets, bow nets, and even a device called a “fish wheel.”

Over that time, local festivals still celebrated the arrival of the herring. Churches and other community groups marked the season with fried herring dinners. Fresh and salt herring remained staples in local homes.

The herring’s spawning runs continued to decline however. For a time, a herring fishery and cannery was still flourishing 25 miles to the north of Plymouth, on the Chowan River, but even it collapsed in the 1990s.

In response, fishery regulators eventually took the drastic step of banning all herring fishing on North Carolina’s inland waters. They hoped that the herring population would recover some of its health if there was a period of time without any commercial or recreational harvest of the fish.

For the first time in thousands of years, no herring were legally caught on the Albemarle or its tributaries, including the Roanoke, beginning with the spring spawning runs of 2007.

That ban is still in effect. We are still waiting for our waters to be restored. We are still waiting for our rivers to know again an abundance of life. And we are still waiting for the herring to come back home.

-End-

There’s almost something deceptive about walking through the newest addition to Holly Shelter Game Land.

Trees rising from sandy ground largely blanketed by a thick cover of pine needles and wind-rippling wiregrass deafen any sense you’re just a short way from U.S. Highway 17.

Ben Jones summed up the experience during a recent hike through a small slice of the tract referred to as the Sleepy Creek property, a 1,616-acre parcel where baby longleaf pine trees sprout in savannas, carnivorous plants thrive and dense brush coats the surface of pocosin wetlands.

“It feels like we are miles from civilization,” he said.

That’s the idea behind rerouting a stretch of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail from the side of U.S. 17 in Pender County near Surf City and tucking it on land safely away from the four-lane blacktop.

Jones is the Friends of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail’s Coastal Crescent project manager and architect of the future section of trail, one that will link with nearly 20 miles of existing North Carolina trail snaking through the vast game land.

On a blustery cold day last week, Jones, Friends of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail Associate Director Betsy Brown and North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission officials offered a tour of the portion of game land where the new trail is anticipated.

This is a particularly unique project, one where the plan is to steer hikers away from the gravel roadways that cut through the game land and onto natural surface defined by upland sand ridges, longleaf habitat and pocosin wetlands.

“We want to keep it wild,” Jones said.

The exception will be a boardwalk structure planned through a little more than a mile of pocosin. The walkway will be constructed of some type of fireproof material, perhaps precast concrete that can withstand fire from prescribed burns state wildlife officials will administer to manage the land.

The modern method for maintain longleaf pine forests is through controlled burns, which reduce hardwood growth and manage grasses and forbs in the understory. Fires are essential to longleaf habitats for a number of reasons, one being that longleaf pine seeds germinate on bare ground.

This habitat is essential to a variety of plants and animals, including federally threatened red-cockaded woodpeckers.

The Nature Conservancy acquired the Sleepy Creek property about two years ago, permanently conserving land that would have most likely been developed. The Nature Conservancy transferred ownership to the state Wildlife Resources Commission.

Growth along the U.S. 17 corridor between Wilmington and Jacksonville has exploded in the last couple of decades as demand for property along the coast has skyrocketed.

The roughly 64,000-acre game land sits almost half way between the two cities – 25 minutes from Wilmington and 30 minutes from Jacksonville.

While Holly Shelter is a draw for hunters of game ranging from whitetail deer to rabbit to turkey, it’s also a formidable hiking spot.

The new, natural trail will extend a little more than 3.5 miles through the game land addition, which will also be made available for public hunting.

Negotiations are underway to purchase an additional 45-acre tract surrounded by the game land. If plans go accordingly, that property will be the site of a primitive camp ground.

Brown said kiosks and signage explaining trail and hunting etiquette to help educate those groups on how to coexist will be installed at the trail head.

Hikers are urged to plan ahead, make sure they have sufficient supplies, including water, and check for hunting seasons before heading into the game land. Wildlife officials ask hikers to wear something blaze orange, whether it be a hat, vest or other attire, if traversing Holly Shelter during a hunting season.

The Mountains-to-Sea Trail stretches more than 1,100 miles from the Great Smoky Mountains to the Outer Banks.

The Coastal Crescent Trail gives its guests the opportunity to experience a portion of the Cape Fear Arch, an area tapped as having the greatest biological diversity on the East Coast north of Florida.

The Arch spans between Cape Lookout National Seashore, a barrier island system in Carteret County, and Cape Romain in South Carolina, and inland beyond Fayetteville to the Carolina Sandhills.

The Coastal Crescent Trail runs through Johnston, Sampson, Cumberland, Bladen, Pender and Onslow counties.

The segment (there are 18 total) of Mountains-to-Sea Trail included in Holly Shelter Game Land spans a little more than 90 miles. It includes 3.5 miles of trail, just over 9 miles of beach, about 5.5 miles of multi-use path, 19 miles of forest roads and a little more than 53 miles of paved road.

Jones said he did not have an exact timeframe on when the new rerouted trail will be open for hiking, though it is expected to be complete in fewer than five years.

BUXTON — When the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was rescued 25 years ago from the edge of the Atlantic, the nation’s tallest brick beacon was relocated with just an ordinary airport beacon in its lantern room.

It could be argued that return of the majestic first order Fresnel lens atop the 1870 lighthouse will be nearly as remarkable a feat as moving the 4,800-ton tower about a half-mile inland. But to the man crafting the replica, it’s the apex of a 40-year fascination with the unique lens that began with another lighthouse.

Dan Spinella, owner of Artworks Florida Classic Fresnel Lenses, has been meticulously replicating the design of the original Cape Hatteras Lighthouse lens as part of the current comprehensive lighthouse restoration project. The new prisms, made of a super-strong acrylic, are dyed to exactly match the sea foam green of the glass prisms they’re replacing.

Spinella is likely the only man in the nation, maybe the world, who knows about manufacturing those prisms. But when he visited the 1874 St. Augustine Lighthouse in the 1980s, it was the first time he had been even inside a lighthouse.

“And when I saw the lens, it’s like, ‘Whoa, what the heck is this?’” Spinnella recalled during a recent telephone interview. “I had no idea.”

St. Augustine’s Fresnel lens, the same impressive size as the Hatteras lens, immediately captivated him and set off an unusually productive obsession. Before he knew it, Spinella, who then was and still is employed as an engineer at Walt Disney World, offered to take dimensions and do some drawings to help in the lens restoration.

“Yeah, I went from volunteer to volunteer/business, and it just evolved over the years,” he told Coastal Review, speaking from his Orlando home. “Nothing that I planned; it just kind of worked out.”

The website of the nonprofit St. Augustine Lighthouse and Maritime Museum credits the efforts of the Junior Service League of St. Augustine and others, including Spinella and Joe Cocking, the lampist who had later saved the fixed Fresnel lens atop Bodie Island Lighthouse, for restoring its lens after being damaged by a vandal’s gunshots.

After working on the St. Augustine project for about a year, Spinella, a professed history lover, said he had learned a lot about how Fresnel lenses worked. He started with engineering books from the 1850s he had located that were written by Scottish lighthouse engineer Thomas Stevenson, the father of writer Robert Louis Stevenson.

He found optic formulas that explained the lenses’ ability to refract and reflect light, allowing him to design a cross-section of the lens “perfectly,” he recalled. And while he kept learning, he kept going. Next, he volunteered at Ponce Inlet, Florida, then continued the work by helping to replace parts at other lighthouses. All along, he was experimenting with cast acrylic, machined acrylic.

“I tried several different ways of getting these prisms made,” Spinella said. “Then in 2004, I started making reproductions.”

Around that time, John Havel, then a graphic designer at the Environmental Protection Agency’s campus in the Raleigh area, had developed a fascination with the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. After focusing on its original blueprints and plans and collecting old photographs, Havel recounted in a recent interview, he was soon doggedly researching deep into historic lighthouse archives.

“When you study the lighthouse, you see that it is this magnificent, incredible, amazing example of American Victorian architecture,” said Havel, who is now retired from the EPA and the owner of Havel Research Associates in Salvo, a Hatteras Island village north of Buxton.

The Hatteras lens, as well, is an extraordinary piece of art.

“Every first order lens is different,” he said. “There are no other lenses identical to the Cape Hatteras lens, or to the Bodie Island lens, or to the Currituck Beach Lighthouse lens. Every single factor except the height and circumference of the lens is different.”

There are a total of six orders of Fresnels lens, with the smallest able to be slipped into a purse.

A couple of years into his research, Havel recalled, he was visiting the office of the historian with Cape Hatteras National Seashore and noticed a small prism on his desk.

“And he started telling me about this guy down in Florida who made these lenses and wanted to offer a replicas lens through the park service for Hatteras,” he said.

But it wasn’t until 2015, after speaking about the lighthouse restoration at the Outer Banks Lighthouse Society Keepers Weekend, that Havel flew to Florida meet Spinella.

To put it mildly, Havel was impressed. In the years since, as a member of the Lighthouse Society board, and as a dedicated volunteer, he encouraged the National Park Service to tap Spinella’s expertise. Today, Havel is employed as a historic preservation consultant for Massachusetts-based contractor Stone & Lime Historic Restoration Services Inc., as well as an assistant and consultant for Spinella.

The $19.2 million restoration project, of which Spinella is being paid about $1.25 million, began in early 2024 and is expected to be completed by late spring or early summer 2025.

“He’s doing this entire thing,” Havel said of the skilled lens maker. “He’s doing this by himself, while he has a full-time job at Disney … He’s a genius.”

Initially, the park service was considering the possibility of restoring the original 1853 lens, the remains of which are on loan to the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum in Hatteras, a part of the North Carolina Maritime Museums system, which under the state’s Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

“Yes, we did talk about the option of doing that, and consulted with lampist Jim Woodward,” said National Park Service Deputy Chief of Cultural Resources Jami Lanier in a recent interview. “It was determined that it would probably not be feasible to do that for a couple of reasons (including) some issues with the frame of the lens not being exactly aligned to be able to accept the new prisms. And so it was felt that there could be some potential damage to the frame, or the lens itself, if that was attempted.”

Then there was the cost of replacing all the prisms — only 268 of the 1,000 or so prisms were salvaged — which “would have been astronomical,” she said.

The lens had been removed from the 1853 lighthouse, which was a taller version added to the 1803 tower, and installed in the1870 lighthouse, Lanier said. The lens was removed again in 1949, and in 1953 the lighthouse became part of Cape Hatteras National Seashore. But in the years before and after World War II, the lighthouse was essentially abandoned and the lens was vandalized, she said.

Lanier explained that Woodward and his team had removed the original pedestal from the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in 2006, put it together at the museum with the remains of the lens stored in a park facility on Roanoke Island.

Lanier said that the park service also discussed the potential of retrofitting the original lens with acrylic or glass replacements.

“You know, we went through all those discussions,” she said. “But in the end, it was just decided not to retrofit the original lens either way, and we knew if we were going with the replica that it would be acrylic.”

Indeed, it would cost four to seven times more to make the replica prisms in glass, Spinella said. Some prisms in glass restorations he has done cost $4,000 each, and some were as much as $20,000 each. And multiplied by 1,008 prisms, that could mean millions of dollars. Plus, glass is heavier and would put an additional load on the structure, he said. The original lens weighed 4,500 pounds, while the reproduction will weigh a mere 1,600 pounds.

A first order Fresnel lens, which is shaped like a beehive, is 8 1/2 feet high and 6 feet wide. Not only is the acrylic lighter, Spinella also used anodized aluminum frames that are a third the weight of bronze. Also, the aluminum will not deteriorate or tarnish, but it looks the same as brass except it’s not quite as shiny.

“Polished brass looks absolutely beautiful when I install them, but I can go back a couple months later and they look terrible just because of the humidity and condensation in the lantern room,” he said.

In 2009, Spinella worked with Woodward, who has worked on more than 400 lenses, to measure the lens, and he went back to his workshop and created a 3D model of it. During the intervening years while the park service mulled over having a replica lens, Spinella had continued his experiments, perfecting his acrylic prisms. The initial cast acrylic lacked the quality he wanted, and he eventually settled on optical acrylic.

“It’s a very high-quality acrylic,” he said. “I mean, they use it in fighter jet windows, and it’s UV stable, and it’s easy to machine, sand and polish and it can be tinted.”

Optical acrylic also is clearer than glass and transmits more light, he added. Although it’s strong and durable, it doesn’t last as long as glass.

Importantly, the reflective and refractive ability is nearly the same, with only slight differences.

“It actually bends light a little,” he said. “It’s got a slightly lower index of refraction, so … I’ve adjusted the formulas and adjusted the profile of each prism and shape of curvatures according to the refractive index of acrylic.”

A modern Fresnel-specific LED bulb, installed on a little stand on the pedestal, is hooked up to a sophisticated controller that, at $10,000, costs more than the $8,000 LED, Spinella said. But even with the light source now drastically different than the original kerosene oil lamp, the prisms are in the same arrangement around it.

“That lamp was a flame or omnidirectional light, so it spread 360 degrees spherically in all directions,” Spinella explained. “So that was the purpose of these lenses, to capture as much of that light as possible.”

As Havel noted, another engineering feat that Spinella accomplished was his replication of the lens’ clockwork mechanism, which was based on the 1853 original at the Graveyard museum. There are no known photographs or even descriptions of the lens and its machinery, he said.

“Dan has replicated that with all new gears, metals and whatever (mechanisms) rotated the lens so that it would flash out to sea,” Havel said.

The clockwork had been run by hemp rope, which was extremely strong but messy.

“Hemp sheds,” Havel said. “Dan found synthetic rope that looks the same but isn’t hairy like hemp.”

The rotating beacon’s original flash pattern of every 10 seconds, instead of the former 71/2-second burst, is being restored, and it will continue to be visible for up to 20 miles. As Spinella explained it, each minute the mechanism rotates a quarter turn, a full rotation takes four minutes, “And what that’ll give you is a 10-second flash interval,” he said.

Each lighthouse has its unique flashing characteristic and daymark, which are listed for mariners by the U.S. Coast Guard.

Once Spinella and Woodward reinstall the beacon — probably in June — there will be a day when people who climb to the top of the tower will be able to see for themselves the mesmerizing beauty of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse’s First Order Fresnel Lens.

Spinella said he has modified the lens with modern elements, but he said it’s still correct to consider the lens a replica because it follows the original design. For instance, while the clockwork mechanism and chariot wheels that rotated the lens are still part of it, the real rotation will now come from a 1/3-horsepower electric motor operated by a controller.

“I’ve done some things that make it more durable and more modernized,” he said. “But you really won’t see any of it.”

Tradition is the foundation of the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island, as much as it is for the entirety of Down East Carteret County.

Every year, thousands from all over make their way to the museum’s Waterfowl Weekend held in early December to celebrate those traditions — decoy carving, hunting, boatbuilding, commercial fishing, waterfowl and fellowship — the way of life for the 13 unincorporated communities.

The Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild‘s 36^th annual Core Sound Decoy Festival takes place the same weekend at the Harkers Island School. Hours are 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 7, and 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Sunday, Dec. 8. The facility is filled to the brim with carvers, crafters and other artists. Competitions are planned throughout both days.

The three-day Waterfowl Weekend set for Dec. 6-8 begins with the Friday Night Chow Down at 5:30 p.m. Friday. Those with tickets for the cooking competition will be able to preview what the vendors, crafters and artisans will have for sale before the facility opens to the public 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday. A church service will take place at 8 a.m. before doors open at 10 a.m. Sunday and close at 4 p.m.

“The first weekend of December has grown to be the Island’s homecoming weekend with the Decoy Festival at the school, craft sales all along the way, yard sales, fund-raisers and Down East hospitality every mile of the way,” Waterfowl Weekend organizers said.

Not only will visitors have a chance to meet with artists, carvers and crafters, Waterfowl Weekend is a way many begin their Christmas celebration by walking through the “Gallery of Trees: Telling Our Story,” when families, groups and businesses decorate trees to light up the museum through Jan. 10, and purchase their 2024 holiday ornament.

Johnna Brooks and the Della John

Each year the museum releases a collector’s ornament that celebrates Core Sound culture. This year’s numbered ornament features a painting of the fishing vessel Della John by Harkers Island native Johnna Brooks.

Currently working on her doctorate in biomathematics at North Carolina State University where she studies quantitative fisheries ecology, she has had a passion for art her entire life. Her father built the Della John in 1979, which the family later sold, but Brooks said she’s been painting the vessel on and off for as long as she can remember.

Waterfowl Museum Executive Director Karen Willis Amspacher said that the Core Sound ornament has become more than something to hang on the tree.

“It’s a glimpse of Core Sound that many of us hang in a special place all year long.  From decoys and black labs to crab pot trees, these ornaments have told the story of Down East,” Amspacher said. “Each year we have tried to select an artist that shares that deep commitment to our heritage and this year Johnna is that connection to tradition as well as an excellent career in the marine sciences. She’s our future.”

The ornament can be purchased on the website or from the museum’s gift shop.

Brooks graduated as valedictorian from East Carteret High School in 2016 and earned her bachelor’s at North Carolina State University.

Her dad’s side of the family has been on Harkers Island for several generations, spending their days commercial fishing and boatbuilding, Brooks said. The Della John is the first boat that her father built from start to finish. The 50-foot wooden trawler was built in 1979 and her family owned and operated the boat until 2019 when they sold it to another local business, Miss Gina’s Fresh Shrimp. Her father retired from commercial fishing in the 1990s and has been in marine construction since.

She said that she likes to go fishing but not in the way many of her peers do at state’s Center for Marine Sciences and Technology, or CMAST.

“Now, I’m in this marine lab with people who like to fish. I go out with them sometimes, and I think they’re a little bit surprised with how little I know,” about recreational fishing, she said. But she’s been fishing since she was young.

“My granddad, he’s 90 now, but I remember when I was, no older than 10 years old. Pa, he would take me and my little cousin out – he’s younger than me — and we would pull in a mullet net, and it was just me and my kid cousin on one end of the net, and then my 70-something granddad on the other end,” Brooks said. “I’ve been doing that as long as I can remember.”

She said she’s always been strong in math but has enjoyed art just as much, having taken art classes throughout high school. She realized she missed the creative outlet when she was working on her bachelor’s and ended up with a minor in art.

“I’ve always found that math was very concrete, it made sense, it was structured,” Brooks said, and art helped her with her math classes, along the way though she didn’t see it as a viable career option.

When she began her undergraduate, she said she knew she was going to get a degree in math, and that she wanted to stay in Carteret County, “that was the only thing I was sure about.” But she was concerned her career options were limited.

Growing up in the area, she was familiar with all the marine labs in the county, but didn’t personally know anyone who worked there, aside from her grandmother who had worked at the Division of Marine fisheries for many years.

“I thought they dissected dolphins all day,” she laughed about what she thought when she was younger, adding “I can’t use math to dissect dolphins.”

It was her junior year of college when Hurricane Florence was lumbering toward North Carolina, and one of her professors asked if anyone lived at the coast. She and another person raised their hands. Brooks learned that her professor had been a statistician at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration Beaufort Marine Lab, and it dawned on her that if scientists are going out to collect data, someone has to do something with that data.

Once it clicked for her that this is a way to stay in Carteret County and use her math degree, she started looking into getting a master’s but was encouraged to work on her doctorate. She initially didn’t want to get a PhD, because she didn’t want to be in her late-20s, still living in Raleigh. “I wanted to come back, start my life, put down roots where I want to live. This is kind of the best of both worlds.”

She spends most of her days doing research for her doctorate on speckled trout management. In what little down time she has, Brooks paints scenes from her childhood on old charts her dad used while he was a commercial fisherman.

“Nobody uses charts anymore,” Brooks said. “I had to get my dad to explain how to use them. This is a whole way of fishing that people did in the past. And just like with the Harkers Island bridge, it’s a thing in the past. It’s not there anymore.”

Her career plans and her art are a way for her to preserve the way of life loved as a child and a way to adapt to how the world around her is changing, which she acknowledges is going to happen, regardless. But she’s trying to preserve the culture and the stories, how things were done, in her own way, she said.

Waterfowl Weekend highlights

For the Friday Night Chow Down, cooks from Down East and neighboring communities will bring several different recipes of stewed shrimp, clam chowder, seafood chowder, stewed redheads, stewed oysters with dumplings, fish stew with cornbread, gumbo and venison chili.

Area bakers will be competing as well for the 2024 “Best Sweet Potato Pie Down East” award during the Friday night event. Seafood market and restaurant chefs from across the state will judge the cooking competition.

Tickets are $35 for members and $45 for nonmembers. Save $10 a ticket by becoming a member now for $30 a year. Tickets are for sale online.  Each ticket includes four cups of your choice. Molasses Creek will perform that evening. There will be a cash bar

In addition to the grounds being covered with vendors, there will be scallop fritters and sweet puppies, online auction, and performances by Molasses Creek at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. Saturday. A church service with breakfast begins Sunday’s festivities.

Other highlights include book signings with local authors 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday. Raffle tickets are on sale for this year’s quilt, “Core Sound Kaleidoscope” by the Core Sound Quilt Crew, and there’s a Christmas cash giveaway raffle for a chance to win up to $5,000 cash.

With its international connections, centuries of history and unique attractions, Ocracoke has earned its reputation as a star of the Outer Banks.

Accessible only by ferry or light aircraft, Ocracoke is one of the few inhabited island destinations in the state without a highway connection to the mainland. But those who take the state-run ferry from Cedar Island, Hatteras or Swan Quarter to the isolated village are in for a delight.

Ocracoke is one of North Carolina’s more stable barrier islands. Ocracoke Inlet, at its western end, is the only inlet in the state that has existed since the 16th century. This stability has made Ocracoke a center of marine transportation since the centuries before European arrival. Native Americans used the island as a base for fishing, hunting and navigation.

Beginning in the 17th century, English ship pilots made their home there. One of the earliest settlements on the Outer Banks, Pilot Town was first settled around 1715, and was located where Ocracoke Village is now, according to “The Outer Banks of North Carolina, 1584-1958” by David Stick. Those pilots were predominately white in early years, but by the 19th century there were a considerable number of African Americans, both free and enslaved, piloting ships from Ocracoke.

Ocracoke remained sparsely populated throughout the colonial and early republic period. But its navigational status gave it outsized importance relative to its small population. To that end, the island is the home of one of North Carolina’s oldest lighthouses. Built in 1823, the Ocracoke Lighthouse still stands on the western section of the island.

Ocracoke’s isolation makes it special. It led to the development of islanders’ distinctive brogue, often called “High Tider,” or “Hoi Toider,” that linguists have studied extensively for decades. But isolation also exposed the island to enemy naval attack.

The most notable invasion occurred during the War of 1812, when Ocracoke and Portsmouth were taken over by the forces of British Admiral Sir George Cockburn. The invasion was embarrassing for North Carolina, whose militia took several days to reach the island. After the war, the temporary loss of Ocracoke prompted the state’s government to invest in internal improvements.

The island was once again vulnerable to invasion during the Civil War. It was the site of Fort Ocracoke, the home of hundreds of Confederate forces in the early months of the war. The fort was taken by the Union army without a struggle following the fall of nearby Hatteras Island.

The capture was the beginning of a shift in the island’s focus. It still hosted pilots, but in the late 19th century, the island also became a center for tourism and the location of a village which remains to this day.

The island never lost its connection to naval endeavors, however. During World War II, it was the site of a naval base and close to shipping lanes where many German U-boats hunted British and American ships.

One of these ships, the British HMT Bedfordshire, sank off the coast after a torpedo attack. Four bodies washed up on the shore at Ocracoke. The cemetery where these men are buried is still leased by the British government, one of the few of its kind in the United States.

Over the past 50 years, Ocracoke has experienced both growth and resilience in the face of harsh coastal conditions and historic storms. Hurricane Dorian in 2019 slammed the island with a more-than 7-foot surging wall of water. All aspects of life here were affected. Scars still linger.

Now Ocracoke’s tourist village, shops, motels are thriving again, and there are services including a dog kennel.

The island has more than a dozen restaurants within the mile or so between the ferry terminal and the Ocracoke Airport. In addition to the three vehicular ferries that visit the island, the North Carolina Department of Transportation launched the Ocracoke Express passenger ferry in 2019.

Though there is significant development on the western side of Ocracoke, the eastern side is part of Cape Hatteras National Seashore and is home to horses, nesting sea turtles, and hundreds of species of birds.

Ocracoke has received numerous plaudits over the past two decades, as well.

In 2020, it was named by HGTV as one of the 22 best islands to visit in the United States, with the network describing it as “a peaceful escape to travelers willing to make the trip.”

Ocracoke’s quiet allure brings visitors of varied interests. Andrea Tolson, administrator of the Ocracoke Preservation Society, said she believes that beaches, fishing and history are the main draws for tourists.

Many of the businesses and sources of employment on the island have connections to the historic sites here, from the lighthouse and the museum to a coffee shop located in a historic house, she explained.

The island has successfully kept out chain stores and large-scale commercial businesses, Tolson said. Those wouldn’t be in keeping with the way of life here.

“Things are very self-sustained out here,” Tolson added, “and that’s the way we like it.”

While facing increased threats from climate change and hurricanes, the island has found balance in its unique ecosystem amid the demands of a tourist economy. The snowball’s chance of N.C. Highway 12 ever connecting the island to the mainland with a bridge would likely overwhelm the village and the island’s natural areas with tourists.

“I don’t think most of the community here would like that. It would change the whole face of this island,” Tolson said of a bridge.

ROANOKE ISLAND — While immigration is a hot election-year topic, it’s perhaps notable that speculation continues unabated about the fate of America’s first English immigrants who vanished into the mists of history 437 years ago, with yet another twist in the saga of the real people who became known as the “Lost Colony.”

Could at least a group from the colony that briefly settled on the shores of today’s Roanoke Island, on North Carolina’s Outer Banks, have moved, not only 50 miles south or west, as many believe, but simply to the other side of the sound?

According to records, when the colony’s governor John White returned three years after he left for supplies in 1587, the only evidence of the colony’s whereabouts was the word “Croatoan” – once the home of the Croatan Indians on Hatteras Island – carved on a fort palisade, and the letters “CRO” carved in an oak tree. That has been widely interpreted as a signal from the colonists that they moved to Croatoan – that is, Hatteras.

Alternately, there were signs that could have meant they went 50 miles into the mainland, as White said was discussed with the colonists before he departed.

But in a recent research report, “Croatan: The Untold Story,” veteran archaeologist Eric Klingelhofer, vice president of research with the nonprofit First Colony Foundation, says that a review of historic maps indicates that the Croatan tribe who had befriended the Roanoke colonists did not actually live on Hatteras Island; they lived on land across from Roanoke Island at what is now mainland Dare County. So if at least some colonists went to live with the Croatan Indians, they may have had to merely cross the sound.

“Cartographic study therefore suggests that a broad territory was attributed in the historical period to the remnant Croatoans, and that the likely location for their core habitation and Dasemunkepeuc itself lay northwest of Roanoke in the vicinity of modern Mashoes,” Klingelhofer asserts in the report, published on the foundation’s website.

Dasemunkepeuc, an Algonquian village, was located at present-day Mann’s Harbor, near Mashoes. The Croatan and Roanoke were branches of Algonquian Indians.

What his research shows is that the Croatan had left Buxton on Hatteras Island at some point after the arrival of the English in the mid-1580s, and relocated to the mainland where they could grow crops, Klingelhofer, a retired professor of history at Mercer University, told Coastal Review in a recent interview.

“It looks like, from these maps, which were most of the official governmental maps, that the Mashoes area and south of that Manns Harbor area was the land of the Croatoans,” he said, using an alternate name for the Croatan. “The Roanokes, who probably had more problems with disease because they had greater contacts, they may have been there for a while. But then they moved south, maybe because of better resources, or there were more friendly natives that they had relations with, or something like that. And then they don’t know what happened to them beyond the fact that they were no longer in this area.”

Long catnip for charlatans, fabulists and conspiracy dabblers, the disappearance of Sir Walter Raleigh’s colony on Roanoke Island – England’s first attempted settlement in the New World – has been dubbed the “nation’s oldest mystery” for a reason: Only bits of evidence have been found that point to what may have happened to most of the 117 men, women and children who had sailed to Roanoke Island more than four centuries ago.

Perhaps because of its ephemeral intrigue, the Lost Colony, a precursor to Jamestown in 1607, the first permanent English settlement, has been the focus of numerous archaeological surveys and digs – both professional and amateur – for decades. It has sparked a beloved long-running local summer theater production. It has spawned magical fables of a White Doe and of large stones carved with cryptic writing, both linked to Virginia Dare, a colonist’s baby born in 1587. And it has inspired many books, some more authoritative than others, including Klingelhofer’s, “Excavating The Lost Colony Mystery, The Map, the Search the Discovery,” published in 2023 in association with the foundation, which features a collection he edited of research by historians, archaeologists and others.

The foundation has worked closely with pre-colonial experts who have conducted research at Williamsburg and Jamestown in Virginia, as well as at Fort Raleigh National Historic Site on Roanoke Island, which has yielded artifacts but no hints of the colonists’ settlement. In a recent archaeological exploration, the foundation had found evidence of first contact between the English explorers and Native Americans at Fort Raleigh, and also has unearthed artifacts that indicate some Lost Colonists may have lived for a time at riverfront sites in Bertie County, dubbed Site X and Site Y.

Despite the growing volume of information that has been collected over the years, and numerous Indian and English artifacts that have been unearthed, to date no pre-colonial smoking gun has been found that fills in the big blanks about the elusive Lost Colony.

“We don’t know where they started out from,” Charles Ewen, distinguished professor of anthropology at East Carolina University’s Thomas Harriot College of Arts and Sciences, told Coastal Review. “We don’t know where they went. We have sort of the general vicinity and it’s become this wonderful mystery that people are trying to figure out.”

Ewen, more cohort than rival of Klingelhofer, has also recently written a book, with co-author E. Thomson Shields Jr.: “Becoming the Lost Colony, The History, Lore and Popular Culture of the Roanoke Mystery,” published in 2024.

Whatever detritus the colonists left behind may have been lost to erosion along the shores of the Croatan Sound or to decay in the swamps. But there are also unanswered questions about 16^th century people’s choice of living conditions, and Ewen agreed that the mainland could have provided better shelter and more food.

“In fact, I think most archeologists think that the Outer Banks were just seasonally occupied,” Ewen said. “So when they said they were prepared to move 50 miles into the main, I think the Outer Banks during the winter would not have been a terribly hospitable place.”

Deciphering the clues of the Lost Colony, like a 400-year-old board game, is why the mystery of their fate continues to fascinate.

Klingelhofer, a founding member of the First Colony Foundation, a volunteer group of professional archaeologists established in 2003, has explained that their overall mission is finding evidence to fill in the gaps about the 1584-1587 Roanoke Voyages, which ultimately led to early American English colonization. Still, it’s always the Lost Colony story from the 1587 Roanoke Voyage that most ignites the public imagination and spurs continued investigations and research, such as Klingelhofer’s work.

Both Klingelhofer and the foundation, and Ewen and East Carolina University, have a close association with the late archaeologist David Phelps, professor emeritus of anthropology at ECU who died in 2009 at age 79.

An expert on prehistoric and Algonquian archaeology, Phelps was renowned for his work studying Tuscarora Indian sites at Neoheroka in Greene County and Jordan’s Landing in Bertie County. When Hurricane Emily in 1993 exposed vast amounts of pottery sherds and shell midden in Buxton, it was Phelps’ numerous excavations that determined the site had been the Croatan capital that stretched a half-mile from Cape Creek to Buxton village.

Phelps had dated what he called “the Hatteras site” from 1650 to 1720.

Manteo, who had befriended the colonists, had lived in Croatan, and his mother was the tribe’s leader. For that reason, some historians hypothesized that the colonists may have fled there, although most say the Croatan had inadequate food and space to accommodate more than a small number.

An archaeologist who had worked alongside Phelps as a young man, Clay Swindell, is now working with the foundation, Klingelhofer said.

Even though centuries separate our contemporary population from historic colonial explorers, human nature was likely as prone to boasting and deception then as it is now.

Hence, Klingelhofer said it’s worth noting that everyone is presuming what White, the governor who reported the “CRO” letters at the Lost Colony’s fort, actually knew and didn’t know.

“John White wasn’t always trustworthy,” he said. “He assumes a lot of things. He claims a lot of things that are not necessarily fully the truth. A lot of it is his interpretation of particular people and their motives behind the people that he has gotten angry with.”

In other words, White’s account may not be the only version of Lost Colony history to consider.

“But any good historian knows better than to trust a person who’s even an eyewitness to things,” Klingelhofer said. “You need corroboration. And sadly, there isn’t any except for in these maps.”

As Ewen sees the Lost Colony, all of the foundation’s hypotheses could be legitimate, but as he and Klingelhofer agree, it’s all pieces of a puzzle yet to be solved.

“I think it’s very difficult to say with any degree of certainty, until we find some more physical evidence, that we have an idea of what happened,” he said. “We need to find Christian burials from the 16th century, and I think that will really start putting us in the vicinity.”

English burials, he added, would be east-west, with the head at the west end. The clothing items would date to the 16th century, and skeletal analysis would indicate they were European. But archaeologists and historians are by no means ready to throw in the towel in pursuit of the Lost Colony.

“Honestly, I think it’s going to be an accidental discovery,” Ewen said. “Somebody will come across something while they’re developing … (and) stumble upon some of this stuff. And the archeologists will get involved, and then it will be, ‘Oh, OK!’”

As N.C. Highway 32 winds through Washington County, it passes through Skinnersville, an unincorporated township with a population of just over 700.

There isn’t much here; a few homes along the south bank of the Albemarle Sound, but it’s mostly open farmland and forest. Pea Ridge, where the first bridge connecting the south bank of the Albemarle Sound with the north side and Edenton, is about 2 miles to the east. Roper is 8 miles or so west.

There is a historical marker on the north side of the highway that the Division of Archives and History posted in 1974 that reads: “Rehoboth Church — Colonial Anglican congregation known as Skinner’s Chapel. Present church constructed 1850-1853. Now United Methodist.”

Behind the sign, framed by trees and expansive farm fields, is the Rehoboth Methodist Church. A lovingly restored, simple, Greek Revival structure.

The church has been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1976. The evaluation of the structure noted, “The simple yet dignified frame church in its picturesque setting in a grove of trees draped with Spanish moss has been preserved through local efforts as a landmark of the county.”

Many of those trees are gone now, lost to time and weather. The restoration was originally done by the Washington County Historical Society, but the more recent work that has recreated the original look and feel of the church has been done by the Rehoboth Church Preservation Society.

Chris Barber, chair of the organization, is one of the founding members of the Rehoboth Church Preservation Society. She had retired from teaching in 2006 and was looking for something to do, had seen the church, knew it needed work, and “I started calling around,” she said.

What she found were the people who had worked on the church in the 1970s and brought it to the attention of the National Park Service, the organization that administers historic places, were, “either dead, moved away, or they were elderly people.”

Two years later in 2008, she and four others founded the Rehoboth Church Preservation Society as a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. Grants followed — perhaps the most important was the first $32,000 award.

“It enabled us to raise the church, but because it was sinking,” Barber said. “When you looked at the images, it looked like the brick foundations were failing. But actually what was happening is the sills were rotting, and as they rotted, they were twisting the church on the foundation.”

The grant was the first of a number of funding sources that have brought the church back to a more accurate state of restoration. Some of what has been found as the church has been restored has been surprising.

For instance, the windows are original, Barber said.

“There are no records at any time that the windows were ever changed. I wrote a grant to have the windows refurbished and restored,” she said, adding that was in 2019.

Barber, who has written a book about the history of the church and its significance, “The Tie That Binds: Rehoboth Methodist Church and 300 Years of Worship,” points to some of the more fascinating features and pieces of history housed within the church.

When the church was completed in 1853, the structure did not originally have a ceiling.

“We know from some records that they probably put the ceiling in about the 1880s or so. If you look, you’re going to see the prints of hands. The men in the church did it,” she said.

The church is a time capsule in other ways, offering a glimpse of life in antebellum North Carolina.

Occupying 1.75 acres donated in 1850, apparently by Joseph H. Norman, who is described in the National Historic Places evaluation as, “the owner of fifty slaves and was Washington County’s fourth largest slaveholder.”

There are no records indicating who built the church, although the evaluation suggests it was the enslaved people Norman owned who did the work.

“Local tradition has it that these slaves built the church,” the evaluation noted.

The church, because of its mostly original state, features details seen only in the oldest churches, such as its two doors — men entered on one side, women on the other.

The pews are original and are fitted with a separator between the male and female congregants’ seating.

The doors of the church face away from the highway.

“That road (N.C. Highway 32) wasn’t here when they built the church. The main road was there,” Barber said, pointing toward an open field.

Enslaved people were permitted to attend the church, but segregation was enforced. There was also a separate door for the enslaved families that opens to stairs leading to a balcony where the pews are narrower and not as well built, compared to the pews on the main floor.

The balcony itself is significantly angled toward a high balustrade. When looking into the chapel, only the pulpit and pastor would have been visible from here.

For Barber, the church’s importance extends beyond its architectural significance.

“This is the fourth church in a small area of this county,” she said, noting that the county’s first church was built about a mile and a half to 2 miles away. “That was South Shore Chapel, built somewhere between 1715 and 1733.”

The county’s second house of worship was Skinner’s Chapel, built, Barber writes in her book, probably because, “the first chapel … fell into disrepair.”

“No records have been found that give exact dates, but presumably, Skinner’s was built sometime in the mid-18th century,” she writes.

At the end of the 18th century, the Rev. Charles Pettigrew, who was instrumental in bringing the Anglican Church to North Carolina, became aware of Skinner’s Chapel and that the structure was no longer fit to be used.

“In his travels … Pettigrew saw that old Skinner’s Chapel was in poor condition and dangerous for continued use,” Barber noted.

Acting on Pettigrew’s advice, church leaders purchased an acre for a shilling, and “sometime in 1805 the new church (Swain’s Chapel) was completed.”

By the middle of the 19th century, Swain’s Chapel itself had fallen into disrepair and leaders decided to build a new church to higher standards than any of the previous churches. That church is now Rehoboth Methodist Church.

The history of the churches of Washington County reflects broader societal changes happening here during the 18th and 19th centuries, including growing intolerance.

That first south shore chapel was the result of the Vestry Act of 1715, which was in response to the growing influence of the Friend’s Society, or Quakers, in the region.

Writing about the influence of the Vestry Acts, the first was in 1701, the Nahunta Friends Church in Pikeville noted that, “With the planting of the Church of England and the Vestry Acts of 1701 and 1715, religious tolerance was no longer practiced and problems for Friends increased.”

Pettigrew was an Anglican deacon and minister, but after the American Revolution the Anglican Church was in decline. The Protestant faith, including the Methodist Church, based on the reformist drive of John Wesley in England, took root here.

It is unclear whether the third church here, Swain’s Chapel, began as an Anglican or Methodist church, but by the time Rehoboth was completed, the congregation was Methodist.

For perhaps the first 50 or 60 years of its existence, the Rehoboth Methodist Church thrived, but over time, the primitive, sparse nature of the church may have been behind the loss of parishioners to more modern houses of worship.

“They had wooden heat originally,” Barber said. “Probably by the mid-20th century, or just before, they put in kerosene heaters.”

The church did not have electricity until 1965. There is still no indoor plumbing.

“It was like living in the 18th or 19th century when you came to church,” Barber said.

By 1970, the church was no longer listed as part of the United Methodist Church. Today, there’s no congregation, but the church is available for special events by contacting the preservation society.

Hotels have been a staple of the North Carolina coastal vacation for over a century. There are hundreds along the coast today stretching from the Corolla Village Inn near Virginia to the Continental Motel at Sunset Beach, over 200 miles to the south.

The first famous North Carolina hotels, all open by the early 1900s, included the Lumina Pavilion in Wrightsville Beach, the Atlantic Hotel in Morehead City, and the First Colony Inn in Nags Head. These hotels drew thousands of tourists each year and shaped the landscape around them, with the Lumina giving its name to one of Wrightsville Beach’s main thoroughfares.

But one of the more popular hotels of the early 20th century is almost forgotten. No old ruins survive of the Bayview Hotel in the tiny unincorporated Beaufort County community of Bayview, and there are no historic markers other than an illustration on a small wooden sign.

The Bayview was a unique hotel, a river-based beacon that helped build a tourist center in an area mainly known today for agriculture and fishing.

The tourist hotel boom began in the late 19th and early 20th century. People had visited North Carolina beaches since the early years of the colony, but it took until the late 1800s for railroad construction and growing industrial prosperity to create a steady stream of tourists. Once they had the money and the ability to reach the state’s beaches, North Carolinians and out-of-staters came in droves.

In 1921, a travel writer for the New York Tribune noted, “there is one of the finest white sand beaches at Wrightsville that I know anything about,” and spent the rest of a long article praising the town’s Lumina Pavilion.

Eastern North Carolina tourism during this period was centered on beach travel, as it is today, but there were plenty of other scenic areas near the coast that could become tourist destinations. This thought animated the Bayview Hotel founders, a group that included businessmen from Washington, Wilson and other eastern towns. These men had connections in several different industries, most notably coastal businesses such as seafood processing.

They spent about half of a million dollars to establish their hotel on the Pamlico River 19 miles down from Washington and 3 miles south of Bath. The area had been mostly untouched prior to that point and was known more for hunting than any other pursuit. But it had beautiful views of the water and was a perfect spot for sunbathing, swimming, and lounging away from crowds and cities.

The planners went through every effort to make the Bayview Hotel an attractive destination. They laid out a large boardwalk with concessions and a golf course. Steamships made regular excursions between Washington and Bayview. Once they arrived, guests enjoyed modern plumbing, electric lights, and regular dances held on an expansive pavilion. A 1927 newspaper advertisement showcased Bayview as a center for “bathing, boating, dancing, fishing, and many other amusements.”

The Bayview Hotel thrived for nearly two decades. It hosted a number of dignitaries including longtime Congressman Lindsay Warren, Senate Leader Furnifold Simmons, and the then-former Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels, the noted newspaperman and white supremacist.

But the Bayview was subject to the same threats that other hotels of the time had faced, notably fire. Despite the extensive brickwork used in the hotel’s construction, it burned down in 1943, just as the famed Atlantic Hotel had in Morehead City in 1933. The loss hit the area as the country was in the midst of fighting World War II and lacking the resources to rebuild a hotel as large as Bayview.

Following the war, the tourism industry forgot Bayview and other river towns in favor of the beach. Bayview was passed over for interstate highway construction and could only be reached by the two-lane N.C. Highway 92, which is entirely contained within Beaufort County.

The one notable connection that Bayview has today, the ferry across the Pamlico River to Aurora, was built not for tourism but for employees of the Aurora phosphate mine Texas Gulf Sulfur that opened in the 1960s. The hotel was never rebuilt. In subsequent decades, the land where it was became the home of a community, Bayview Townes, which features a painting of the original hotel on its sign.

The Bayview Hotel is a symbol of an earlier time, before the era of highways, roadside motels, and the state’s mountain-beach dichotomy. It was a time when new business ventures could create tourist centers out of swamp and woods. Fueled by railroads and early car travel, the Bayview Hotel was able to carve out a role in the history of state tourism, one that should be remembered by today’s fans of North Carolina waterways.

The morning of Aug. 17, 1899, a Category 3 hurricane plowed across Shackleford Banks, Diamond City and Portsmouth, then-inhabited island communities in Carteret County.

With 2024 being the 125^th anniversary of the storm that forced many of these families to pack up everything – even their homes – and move inland, descendants are planning a reunion for Saturday, Aug. 17, to commemorate the exodus.

The Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island is hosting the daylong Diamond City Homecoming that is held every five years to celebrate “our ancestors of the Shackleford Banks,” in partnership with the Cape Lookout National Seashore and Island Express Ferry.

The first gathering took place in 1999 to commemorate the 100-year anniversary of the storms of 1899 that drove folks from the Banks to Harkers Island, Salter Path or the Promise Land, a community between 12^th and 15^th streets near downtown Morehead City.

The day begins with an 8:30 a.m. ferry ride to Shackleford Banks for a wreath-laying ceremony at the Wade’s Shore Cemetery, followed by an afternoon of discussion at the museum. Starting on Thursday and throughout the weekend, descendants will have on display family photos, scrapbooks and artifacts at the museum.

Carteret County native Shannon Adams has helped coordinate the homecoming, held every five years, since 2014.

“The original residents of Diamond City and their descendants were deeply connected to the sea, both because of its constant presence and its role in their livelihoods. They were a close-knit community, characterized by their strong wills, outspoken nature, and warm hearts. Their conversations are marked by a unique brogue,” Adams said.

He explained that Carteret County “has three distinct areas known for its unique mystique, reputation, and ties to Diamond City: Harkers Island, Salter Path, and Promise Land” in Morehead City.

They can trace their roots back to the seafaring folk of the Cape Banks, which are the Outer Banks islands extending west and north from Cape Lookout, including Shackleford Banks.

“Nearly a century after the last of their Ca’e Banker ancestors left these islands, their memories and heritage remain entwined with the land,” he continued. The name derived from Cape Banks, Ca’e Bankers were primarily fishermen, although they spent part of the year whaling.

“They pulled nets teeming with mullet and other fish, supplying both their own needs and the mainland market. The Banks once had abundant fresh water, supporting livestock and gardens, and their maritime forests were lush and widespread,” Adams said.

The shoals along the shoreline were treacherous, making navigation dangerous.

“Many ships ran aground before their crews could react, and the Bankers often launched boats to rescue shipwrecked sailors and salvage any floating cargo, from bananas to furniture, and even the wood from the wrecked ships. One of the most notable shipwrecks in the area was the Crissie Wright, a schooner carrying phosphate, lost off Wade’s Shore, Shackleford Banks, in a frigid January night of 1886,” he said.

Diamond City, the largest settlement on the Cape Banks, was named after the black-and-white diamond pattern of the Cape Lookout Lighthouse on the east end of Shackleford. At one time the population was nearly 500.

A series of devastating hurricanes in 1878, 1879, 1897 and two in 1899 battered the Cape Banks.

“These storms led to the maritime forest’s decline and the sand’s encroachment over the greenery, prompting an exodus from the area. By 1905, Diamond City had become a ghost town,” Adams said.

Adams said he is connected through all three areas tied to the migration from Diamond City.

His seventh great-grandfather was Ebenezer Harker, for whom Harkers Island was named.

“Many ancestors on my paternal side were born on Core Banks,” Adams explained. Bettie Gillikin Adams was a school teacher on Diamond City and moved to Salter Path in the early 1900s, after the storms of 1899. The community of Bettie is named after her.

“She met my great grandfather, Macajah ‘Cagie’ Adams and married him in 1910. They moved to the Promise Land in 1918. Cagie was a well-known boatbuilder in Morehead City in the early 20th century,” Adams said. “My wife, Cecilia, and I now own their original home on Shackleford Street in Morehead City. We purchased it in 2012 to bring it back into our family and my father restored it.”

Adams said it is important to keep this oral history alive.

“Descendants like me have a source of fierce pride and are committed to the preservation of this special place that no longer exists. My focus is The Promise Land since my recently deceased father and aunt were so proud of it and taught me well. It is my calling to keep those stories alive,” he said.

Also, a descendant, Camella Marcom, a resident of Harkers Island, has been helping coordinate the wreath-laying ceremony at Wade’s Shore Cemetery on Shackleford Banks.

Marcom noted that this is the 125^th anniversary of the 1899 storm that “made it necessary to move from that wonderful place.”

The purpose of the homecoming always is to link generations, “to remember those who came before us and help those descendants remember who they are and where they came from. Their strength in the storms and resilience is a legacy we can cherish and hold on to,” Marcom said.

She said her great-great-grandparents moved to Harkers Island from Diamond City in 1899-1900. Their names were Alfonzo “Fonzy” and Alice Hancock Guthrie.

They moved their house with them on two sail skiffs and set it up Harkers Island. They lived in it for years before it was torn down in the 1980s. One of their sons lived in it after they died until his death, Marcom explained. They have numerous descendants literally all over the world but many still here in Carteret County.

Her connection to the cemetery on Wade Share through her grandfather’s first wife Mollie Lewis Willis, who is buried there and is one of the few identified marked graves.

Marcom attended the 2019 homecoming that was rained out.

Scheduled for Aug. 17, of that year, the museum was undergoing repairs from damages associated with the September 2018 Hurricane Florence, but they made due and forged on with the homecoming.

They tried to weather the storm and took the short ferry ride to Shackleford Banks, but when they reached the island that morning, the rain was so coming down so hard, they couldn’t reach the cemetery. The ferries turned around and the ceremony took place in the museum, Marcom said.

“It was an emotional but beautiful day of remembrance when each name from the cemetery was read,” she wrote in a social media post about the ceremony at the museum, adding that though the wreath was damaged in the transport, “it stood as a reminder of the perseverance of those who came before us and our own perseverance we will hand down to the next generation.”

The next day, Sunday, Aug. 18, 2019, the wreath was repaired and taken back out to Wade Shore.

“Today, with the weather changed more favorable for an August day, the wreath got its second trip to Wade Shore. This time the sun was shining and the water was glistening. The cemetery could not have been more beautiful,” she wrote. “The stately cedars, hollies, dogwoods, and oaks with a hint of Spanish Moss stood tall reaching heavenward.”

The names were read and the plots were found. “Some of the tombstones had been broken over the years and the engravings were very difficult to read at best but each memorial still a tribute placed there by loving, grieving family members. We knew we stood on hallow, sacred ground. A place that had been revered for years as the final resting place of these sweet souls — our family,” she continued.

About the homecoming

Based at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island, at 8:30 a.m. ferries at the neighboring Cape Lookout National Seashore visitor center docks will carry passengers to Shackleford Banks. A wreath-laying ceremony is scheduled for 9:30 a.m. at Wade’s Shore Cemetery.

“There will be a new wreath this year and renewed feelings of love and belonging. Connections will be made and remembered,” Marcom said, adding that it only happens during these gatherings that take place every five years.

Ferries will head back to Harkers Island at 10:30 a.m. Reservations are required and can be made through www.CoreSound.com/dc-ferry. Cost is $10 a person. 

The museum and community center will open its doors at 10 a.m. when visitors can view family displays and videos.

A welcome is at 11 a.m. Lunch is from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. by Bring Back the Lights Committee/Harkers Island’s Christmas Decorating Project.

Cost for the barbecue and chicken plate from Fat Fellas is $15 each. Tickets for lunch can be purchased at www.CoreSound.com/dc-lunch. Hot dogs and desserts available for purchase on site.

Panel discussions are to begin at 1 p.m. with Promise Land Memories, followed at 2 p.m. with Stories from Salter Path, and at 3 p.m. the discussion will focus on the Camps of Shackleford Banks.

Those who make their way there can expect to be educated by a fiercely proud group of descendants through oral presentations, slideshows, and videos, Adams added.

The day will close out at 7 p.m. with the Diamond City Community Choir:  Music & Memories of our Shared Heritage at Free Grace Church.

Diamond City 125th homecoming shirts are available for sale on the museum’s website.

The coastal historian Jack Dudley recently gave me copies of some wonderful historical photographs of Mashoes, a fishing village now almost gone, that sits on a remote and solitary hammock on the mainland of Dare County, just northwest of Roanoke Island.

For me they brought back memories. I first visited Mashoes 40 years ago, during a winter when I was living on the shores of Lake Mattamuskeet, on that same part of the North Carolina coast.

Even then, the Mashoes I saw was almost a ghost town. The fish houses had been abandoned. The old church was gone. The boatyards had grown quiet.

But there were still a few cottages there, and a few signs of life, including a gill net drying in a fisherman’s backyard, several garden plots, and two or three boats tied up at the docks.

Above all, I remember how beautiful Mashoes was, and its solitude, and how frail the little village looked, surrounded by broad waters and miles of salt marsh and pocosin thicket.

I wondered then what its story was. I longed to know how Mashoes had come to be there, and if it had ever had more life to it, and who had lived there, and what their lives been like.

When Jack showed me the photographs, my memories of that day all came back. And at that moment, I decided that I would try to see if I could learn more about Mashoes’ past.

–2–

As I looked into the history of Mashoes (pronounced “Mee-shoes”), I quickly discovered that there had been settlers on that remote point of land by the time of the Revolutionary War, if not before.

For instance, according to the Native Heritage Project, a genealogical effort to document Native Americans, a mariner named John Payne purchased 160 acres at Mashoes Creek in 1773.

By 1786, Payne was living there with his family and was holding 13 African Americans in slavery, most of whom, I assume, would have forced to labor as fishermen or in other maritime trades.

Land, tax, and census records gave me some sense of settlement along Mashoes Creek in the 1700s and 1800s, but I discovered that I could not really find descriptive portraits of Mashoes until the 20^th century.

Between 1930 and 1940, in particular, a flurry of newspaper accounts described visits to Mashoes. That sudden interest in the little village, I soon learned, was due to a local fisherman and storekeeper named Thomas Loyal Midgett, who in those years undertook what was largely a one-man campaign to persuade the state to build the first road to Mashoes.

Up to that time, Mashoes might as well have been an island. The waters of Albemarle Sound, Croatan Sound, and East Lake wrapped around the village, except to the south, where swamplands and salt marshes separated the village from the rest of mainland Dare County.

No road had ever crossed that swamp and marsh. All travel and trade to and from Mashoes had always been by boat.

Historically that had not been unusual on the mainland of Dare County. For instance, Stumpy Point, a fishing village 20 miles south of Mashoes, was at least as isolated as Mashoes until 1926, when the state completed a road that ran from Stumpy Point to Engelhard.

But by the 1930s, Mashoes was an outlier. By most accounts, Mashoes was the last village anywhere on the mainland of the North Carolina coast that was not accessible to automobiles.

Beginning about 1930, Thomas Loyal Midgett, Capt. Tom, most people called him, set out to change that. He traveled to Manteo, the county seat, and perhaps to Raleigh as well, to convince public officials to build a road to Mashoes.

He also began inviting newspaper reporters to Mashoes to build public support for the construction of a road.

Midgett was kind of Mashoes’ unofficial mayor, and he had been watching the village’s population decline sharply during the early years of the Great Depression.

Nearly all the village’s people were fishermen and their families. Yet during the Depression years, very few fishermen anywhere on the North Carolina coast could make a decent living — the number of commercial fishermen on public relief was staggering.

The Great Depression strangled fishing communities across the Outer Banks and along North Carolina’s sounds and bays.

With so many people unemployed, and with wages and farm prices plummeting, fewer Americans were buying fresh fish. At times, the state’s fishermen left fish to rot on the beach because seafood dealers could not find a market for them.

Some fishing communities proved more vulnerable to the economic downturn than others, however. The fate of any fishing village without a road — or without a railroad to northern markets, or a bridge to the mainland, if it was on an island — hung by a thread. Many of those communities did not survive the Great Depression.

Seeing what was happening, Tom Midgett hoped that a road across the swamplands would bring new life to Mashoes.

Fortunately for those of us interested in North Carolina’s coastal history, several journalists who were Capt. Midgett’s guests in Mashoes later published newspaper stories about the village, including what some of the old timers there told them about its history.

With the help of other sources in the collections of the Outer Banks History Center and the State Archives, those newspaper stories gave me at least a glimpse of what the village was like both in the 1930s and in earlier times, before anyone had ever dreamed of a road.

–3–

One of the most interesting newspaper articles on Mashoes was published in the Raleigh News & Observer on Nov. 27, 1938.

The author of the article was Ben Dixon MacNeill, a journalist who later wrote a well-known account of the Outer Banks called The Hatterasman and a novel, published posthumously, called Sand Roots.

In his N&O story, MacNeill described how he began his journey to Mashoes at Roanoke Island, where at that time he was the publicist for Paul Green’s new outdoor drama “The Lost Colony.”

A bridge had not yet been built between Roanoke Island and the mainland of Dare County, so he took a private ferry across Croatan Sound to Manns Harbor, a fishing village seven miles south of Mashoes. He then found a fisherman to take him up the coast to Mashoes.

In Mashoes, MacNeill found perhaps a dozen families living along what locals called “Peter Mashoes Creek.” (More on that name later.) A little arc of old fish houses stood on wood pilings around the village’s harbor. There was a church, a school, a post office, two abandoned stores.

He described seeing sheep grazing on the grassy cart road that ran from the docks up into the little settlement.

One of the first places that he visited was the village school, said to be the smallest in the state. The teacher, Carrie Mae Lowe, greeted him there. She had come to Mashoes from Rockingham, N.C., 250 miles away, to take the teaching job. She must have had an adventuresome spirit.

Ms. Lowe taught only seven students, though, she said, it was eight if you included Briary, sixth grader Boyd Basnight’s dog. She told Ben Dixon MacNeill that Briary accompanied Boyd to school every day.

“Now that she is used to local custom, [Miss Lowe] would never think of omitting Briary when she calls the roll,” MacNeill wrote. “He is now a member of the 6^th grade … and has a desk all to himself. He sits there and behaves himself. … Miss Lowe says he is a very smart pupil.”

While he was in Mashoes, MacNeill watched three young children arrive at the school by boat. Six-year-old Wilton Westcott was behind the oars, his two sisters enjoying the ride.

Ms. Lowe explained that the children lived on an isolated rise a mile down the creek and always came to school that way.

–4–

A personal story: my mother’s fourth grade teacher in Beaufort, N.C., was evidently cut from the same cloth as Ms. Lowe. A year before Ben Dixon MacNeill found Boyd Basnight’s puppy attending school in Mashoes, my mother’s German shepherd Mike-Dog was going to school with her.

My mother’s father David had died in a terrible accident in the fall of 1937. After his death, my mother’s teacher allowed my grandmother to send my mother to school with Mike-Dog.

Mike-Dog rested by my mother’s desk for the rest of that school year and was, my mother later told me, a tremendous comfort to a heartbroken little girl. And like Briary in Mashoes, he was, she said, always well behaved.

–5–

Huts of Rough Boards

In the April 4^th, 1930, edition of The Independent, a newspaper published in Elizabeth City, journalist Victor Meekins described a recent visit to Mashoes:

“Down on the creek about 150 yards from the Midgett store and home, is a scene of much activity these days. A hundred shad fishermen live in huts of rough boards … and make this their rendezvous for the season.”

He continued, “They get out at daylight, to their nets anchored, or tied to stakes in the rough waters of Albemarle Sound.”

–6–

On the day that he visited Mashoes, Ben Dixon MacNeill also visited the home and boatyard of William “Bill” Howett. Born nearby in 1864, Howett was just shy of 75 at that time, but he had been one of the foremost builders of traditional workboats on that part of the North Carolina coast for many years.

Howett was one of two master boatbuilders in Mashoes that built the elegant, sweet sailing wooden workboats known as “shad boats” in the late 19^th and early 20^th century.

“He remains the premier boat builder of that country,” Ben Dixon MacNeill wrote his News & Observer article in 1938.

The other shad boat builder in Mashoes was Ken Mann, who apparently had a boatyard in the village for a time, but at another time had his boatyard on Rabbit Island, a marshy rise just off Mashoes that has washed away in the years since that time.

For more on shad boats and shad boat builders, see my 12-part series “The Story of Shad Boats.” 

That series features the research of the two most knowledgeable authorities I have ever known on the history of these distinctive traditional workboats– Mike Alford, the former curator of traditional workboats at the N.C. Maritime Museum in Beaufort, and Earl Willis, a now retired schoolteacher who grew up among the last generation of shad boat builders in Wanchese, N.C.

When Howett passed away a few years later, his obituary in the Dare County Times (Dec. 11, 1942) noted that fishermen had long come to Mashoes from great distances to have him build a boat built for them.

To some he seemed something of an eccentric, but I always take that kind of reputation with a grain of salt. In my experience, it often meant that an individual retained the values and outlook of an earlier age, and perhaps failed to embrace other people’s notions of progress and a modern life.

“For many, many years,” MacNeill wrote, “people have been going to Mashoes to get their boats built by this old man, nobody knows how old he is. When they look at the tools with which he does his work, they doubt that anyone could build a raft with them, but when they see the product finished in marvelous strength and smartness and beauty, they marvel at the genius and patience of the man.”

–7–

“To Get Away from the World”

On Nov. 19, 1939, a reporter from another newspaper, The News & Record, of Greensboro, N.C., also spoke with Peter Howett on a visit to Mashoes. In the interview, Howett told him he remembered when fishing boats from all over Dare County crowded the village’s little harbor.

“Why, I mind the time when more than 200 boats were tied up there at one time—and it was me that built most of them.”

Howett went on to say:

“They came from Manns Harbor and from Stumpy Point and from Roanoke Island and pitched their tents or built makeshift shacks down there by the beach during the fishing season. I was right there with them, too.”

According to the reporter, Howett’s elders had told him when he was young that Mashoes had originally been just a fish camp.

He meant the kind of place where people didn’t usually live, but where fishermen gathered only for the fishing season, lived rudely, cooking over fires, and no doubt sharing story, song, and more than a little bit of East Lake liquor, then went home.

Howett said that changed after the Civil War. “With the coming of peace,” the News & Record’s correspondent was told, “many of the men who had suffered during the war felt the need to get away from the world so a number of houses sprang up in Mashoes during the next few years.”

That image of Mashoes in that day stayed with me: a village built as a refuge for broken men and those weary of war and killing.

–8–

While in Mashoes in 1938, Ben Dixon MacNeill observed that an old wooden boat called the Hattie Creef bound the village to Elizabeth City and to other isolated fishing villages on that part of the North Carolina coast.

The Hattie Creef was a 55-foot-long vessel owned by the Globe Fish Company, a wholesale seafood dealer that two brothers in Wanchese, Ezekiel R. and Arthur S. Daniels, had founded in 1911.

George Washington Creef, who is best known for inventing the shad boat, built the Hattie Creef at his Manteo boatyard in or about 1888. He built her for oystering, but the Daniels turned her into a buy-boat sometime between 1911 and 1915.

In the late 1930s, when MacNeill was in Mashoes, the Hattie Creef arrived at the village’s docks every day during the fishing season. The boat’s hands unloaded ice for the next day’s catch, and they picked up that day’s catch, which would ultimately end up in Elizabeth City.

That was the site of the nearest railroad to Mashoes and to a host of other remote fishing villages on that part of the North Carolina coast. In Elizabeth City, the fish were loaded onto refrigerated cars and sent to Norfolk, Baltimore, and other markets to the north.

At that time, the fishing business in Mashoes could not have survived without the Hattie Creef. However, the old boat was important to the villagers in other ways, too. Most importantly, its captain was always happy to give a lift to local people bound anywhere on his route.

As a result, the Hattie Creek helped connect Mashoes to the rest of the world. From Mashoes, the village’s residents could take the Hattie Creef to buy provisions in Elizabeth City, to see a doctor in Manteo, or to visit a sister or a girlfriend in some of the other fishing villages that were on the boat’s regular run, such as Manns Harbor and Stumpy Point.

–9–

On March 27, 1896, The Weekly Economist in Elizabeth City reported that a large crowd of some 100 fishermen had moved into camps in Mashoes for the shad fishing season.

That same issue of The Weekly Economist noted that the “Davis’ seine fishery” in Mashoes was also busy.

That may be a reference to the Croatan Fishery, a massive undertaking that had been operating on the upper part of Croatan Sound since at least the early 1800s.

Owned by Col. William “Bill” Davis of Elizabeth City for much of the late 19^th century, the fishery was manned by large gangs of African American fishermen who harvested the fish in a heavy rope seine that was more than a mile long.

The size of their catches was mind boggling. The largest record of a catch at the Croatan Fishery that I found was a single haul of at least 450,000 fish, requiring two days of labor.

Several other historical accounts refer to that kind of seine fishery operating at Mashoes in the 19^th century. However, I cannot be sure that the Croatan Fishery and the “Davis’ seine fishery” were one and the same. Another seine fishery may also have operated in the vicinity of Mashoes in 1896.

One possibility, which I can’t rule out, but have no evidence for, is that Isaac N. Davis, a merchant in Wanchese, was behind the “Davis’ seine fishery.” Davis had been in the shad fishing business since the 1870s, and he may have had the financial wherewith necessary for a smaller, less capital intensive seine fishery.,

Either way, “the Davis’ seine fishery”— and its large number of presumably African American fishermen— was yet another contributor to Mashoes’ character in its heyday.

–10–

The origins of the Mashoes’ name are lost in mystery and lore. According to the North Carolina Gazetteer, some historians have suspected that the village’s name was of Algonquin origin, as are so many of the place names on that part of the North Carolina coast.

A more common legend, however, traces the village’s name to a man named Peter Michieux, or Mashows, about whom little is known.

According to legend, Peter Michieux, or Mashows, and his wife and child were shipwrecked near what became the site of Mashoes in the early 1700s. As the story goes, he washed ashore holding the lifeless bodies of his wife and child in his arms.

To quote the Gazetteer: 

“When he regained consciousness, he found both were dead. The shock of the experience shattered his reason, and 20 years later he sat with his back to a cypress tree and died. His skeleton and a board on which he had rudely carved the account of his tragic experience were discovered years later.”

People have told many other tales about the village’s name, but it is clear that the marshy stream that led into the settlement was called “Peter Mashoes Creek” by the 1770s.

–11–

Tom Midgett’s campaign to get a road to Mashoes was successful. A state contractor finished building the road in 1943. By then, the coming of the Second World War, with young people joining the military and new opportunities to work in shipyards and other defense industries, had thinned the village’s population even more.

But on a lovely summer day, perhaps 20 or 30 locals joined a larger crowd of visitors in Mashoes to celebrate the opening of the new road.

Speeches were made, and one and all enjoyed a dinner of fried spots, Cole slaw, and cornbread prepared by Bob Tillet, an African American man who was the longtime master of community fish fries on Roanoke Island, according to June 14, 1943, Greensboro News & Record.

Maybe Mashoes’ days were numbered anyway, but the coming of the road still seemed to change everything. The village’s remaining residents found the road to be a great convenience. On the other hand, they also discovered that the convenience came with a price.

The very next year, in September 1944, a powerful hurricane washed the Methodist church in Mashoes off its foundation. The church had long been the center of community life, but now that they had a road, the people of Mashoes found it was easier to drive down to Mt. Carmel Methodist Church in Manns Harbor than it was to make the repairs to their own church.

The Mashoes School must have closed around the same time. Once the road was built, Mashoes’ children could be driven to a school in Manns Harbor. The days of children arriving at school by rowboat had come to an end.

A few years later, the village’s post office closed its doors for the last time. According to a Dec. 14, 1950, article in the Rocky Mount Telegram, the very part-time postmaster there had only done $30 in business all year.

Rural post offices were being closed all over the state of North Carolina at that time. “Rural Free Delivery”– mail delivered by vehicles from post offices in towns — was replacing them.

On the other hand, the road made things a lot easier for the remaining residents of Mashoes in some other ways.

For instance, Tom Midgett’s general store had not sold anything besides sodas since the 1930s, so the road made it easier for people in Mashoes to get groceries and other provisions.

A few years later, the first bridges were built across the Croatan Sound (1957) and the Alligator River (1962). With the road built to Mashoes, local residents could drive for the first time to Manteo, Edenton, and Elizabeth City and beyond.

-12-

In his Nov. 19, 1939, interview with the Greensboro News & Record, the old boatbuilder Peter Howett seemed to foresee what the road would mean for the little village.

He seemed to know that he — and his way of life — was standing in the way of history, and he turned his back on all of it.

“Electric lights, running water, roads, roads — ain’t this place good enough for you like she is,” he told a local young woman, Celia Liverman, in a conversation with the reporter.

Howett had seen how the children who “got educated” on that part of the North Carolina coast left behind their fishing boats, and in many cases left behind their old homes, too, and often were seen no more.

In school, the children learned about the outside world, and even if they did not have the wherewithal in 1938 or ’39 to leave home and go in search of a different life, that would soon change.

“They tell me there are seven kids in school now, seven kids that ought to be out learning how to fish like their daddies before them,” Howett, ever the contrarian, preached. He sounded terribly cantankerous and old fashioned, but there was genuine feeling behind his words, too.

In fact, when I was younger, and my elders remembered Peter Howett’s days, and the changes the coast underwent in those years, I often heard similar words from many of those old timers, too.

I think that they, like Howett, were not really railing against everything new and modern. But I do think that they were trying to tell me something important: be mindful of what people call Progress, because there is a loss and gain in everything, and we often do not know what we have lost until it is gone.

This story has been updated.

Any time Barry Fulton spots a species of bird in his yard he has not seen before, he can’t help but ask himself the same question.

Did I do that?

“You see new species coming and you just ponder, was that because I have more water sources or more plants that have berries for a food source?” Fulton said. “Next thing you know, you’re downloading apps to identify birds.”

Fulton and his wife, Debi Gallo, are among dozens of St. James residents who have in the past several months become part of a unique, yet growing club of property owners who’ve worked to get their town certified as a Community Wildlife Habitat by the National Wildlife Foundation.

St. James officially earned the designation in late February, making it the only coastal town certified in the state. Wilmington is registered but not yet certified — that could happen next year.

To date, nearly 20 towns, cities, communities and neighborhoods in North Carolina have achieved the designation, one that denotes areas where residents have put in the time to create and enhance wildlife habitat on their land.

Proponents of the program say earning the designation is not particularly difficult or expensive.

“In someone’s typical yard they’ve already done some landscaping, so a lot of people are well on their way in what would be needed to certify their property,” said St. James resident Ernie McLaney.

McLaney, member at-large on the St. James Conservancy’s executive board, moved from Charlotte to the coast a couple of years ago to settle in a life of quasi-retirement with his wife, bringing with him a wealth of knowledge about the National Wildlife Federation’s Wildlife Habitat Certification program.

He was one of the originators in supporting Matthews earn its certification in 2012. Three years later, Charlotte picked up the designation, making it, at the time, the largest certified city east of the Mississippi.

McLaney said he was immediately struck by what the town of about 7,000 residents had to offer as a wildlife habitat community.

“When I saw the beauty and amount of tree canopy that St. James has designed into this development here I was just really blown away,” he said.

Roughly 42% of land within the town, which incorporated in the mid-1990s, has been set aside as natural preserve. Natural buffers cushion areas along N.C. Highways 211 and 906, main county thoroughfares that intersect at the town’s northwest corner.

“With all of that in mind and seeing that people were incorporating native plants, bird feeders and birdhouses in their landscape, I thought that this would be an easy project to take on,” McLaney said.

He reached out to the conservancy with the idea, eventually landing him on the nonprofit’s board. Soon he would discover that around 45 properties in St. James were already certified. The requirement to become certified was 150 individual wildlife habitats from everyone including homeowners and churches to fire stations and schools.

The conservancy, with help from organizations including The Garden Club at St. James, hosted a number of community environmental education and outreach programs to spread the word.

“It took us less than a year to get St. James certified,” McLaney said. “Record time. We were impressed.”

Today, around 165 properties in the town are certified.

Certification can be as simple as placing a bird bath or other water feature, birdhouses or nesting boxes and feeders, or planting berry-bearing shrubs in your yard.

“It’s something you can do at your own pace as your time and finances allow,” McLaney said.

That’s a message he hopes resonates throughout other communities in coastal North Carolina.

“It’s an easy lift for some and it’s a recognized process that if people see habitat destruction in their community from growing developments they can counter some of that loss by enhancing what they have in their yard,” McLaney said.

Fulton agreed.

“It’s important that we maintain habitat for our wildlife,” he said. “There’s so much of the habitat that is getting clear cut for development. Everybody can do their fair share to provide some more shelter. They’re getting chased from their natural environments in every way. It’s important to do what we can now.”

The Inner Banks region of North Carolina is home to numerous of the state’s most historic small towns.

Settled early in the 18th century, these communities host famous restaurants, architecturally significant homes, and a wide variety of civic institutions. Some of these places have a reputation that reflects their importance and beauty, with towns such as Edenton and Washington being regionally or even nationally known. On the other hand, there are a number of unsung towns that have not been featured in the New York Times. One of these is Murfreesboro.

This gem on the Meherrin River has attracted civic and educational leaders for the past three centuries and is just as poised for growth today as it was in the colonial period.

Murfreesboro was one of the first areas of North Carolina settled by the British. Its establishment was part of a wave of migration that extended out from the Albemarle Sound region in the early 18th century.

Following the earliest settlements and displacement of Native Americans like the Chowanoac, British settlers continued to seek more land for tobacco. As in Virginia and South Carolina, they moved west, marching across the colony until they reached the falls line in the mid-18th century. In North Carolina, the region closest to the Virginia border was also one of the most prosperous, as its inhabitants could trade with the wealthier Virginians and use their navigable rivers.

One of the rivers that crossed state boundaries was the Meherrin River. Passing through the home of the Meherrin Native Americans, this river provided an outlet to the Chowan River and the Albemarle Sound. Its miles of surrounding fertile farmland gained numerous tobacco plantations throughout the 18th century. By 1707, a small community had formed at a bend on the river.

Murfreesboro was incorporated as a town in 1787 and named for William Murfree, a local landowner and Revolutionary-era politician. The town’s heyday occurred during its first few decades. Architectural historian Catherine Bishir notes that in the early 1800s, the town “enjoyed trade that crowded the streets with wagons bearing produce from as far as the Blue Ridge and brought so many ships to its wharves that ‘one could cross the river on the decks of vessels lying in the stream.’”

The tobacco economy of the Murfreesboro area relied entirely on slavery. The town was a center for plantation agriculture, and enslaved workers constructed its buildings. The proximity of the Virginia border also made Murfreesboro a destination for free African Americans, many of whom were formerly enslaved and had escaped harsher conditions in Virginia. Hertford County, where Murfreesboro is located, had one of the largest populations of free African Americans in the entire state in 1860, according to historian John Hope Franklin.

Murfreesboro still retains a number of buildings from its earliest period as a town. These include nearly a dozen homes built before 1820, as well as at least three homes — Melrose, the Myrick House and the John Wheeler House — built in or around 1805. There is also the William Rea Store, which was built in 1790 and is one of the oldest commercial buildings in the state.

The antebellum period was also the beginning of Murfreesboro’s best-known site. North Carolinians’ zeal for education during the Revolutionary period led to the formation of a number of academies, along with the state university in Chapel Hill.

One of these institutions, Hertford Academy, was established in 1811 in a Murfreesboro home. It was eventually bought by local Baptists and became Chowan Baptist Female Institute, later, in 1910, Chowan College, and in 2006, Chowan University. The institution moved to its present flagship building in 1851. This structure, known as the Columns, is considered an excellent example of Greek Revival architecture and is one of the largest antebellum college buildings in the state.

The Civil War inflicted some damage to Murfreesboro. The town was attacked and looted by Union troops, but it was not burned like Winton, its neighbor to the east. As throughout the South, the war devastated the town’s economy. Tobacco declined in importance for decades. Most importantly, the abolition of slavery erased the forced-labor system upon which the entire region had relied entirely.

Like other towns of the time, Murfreesboro took a middle path as it recovered from the war. It did not embrace — or was not embraced by — industry to the extent that nearby towns such as Ahoskie or Elizabeth City had. Ahoskie, which was formed a century after Murfreesboro, passed the older town in population by the 1910 census. Still, Murfreesboro was eventually able to relax its reliance on cash crops, especially the traditional crop of tobacco. Murfreesboro had become a center for peanut cultivation as well as the home of an iron foundry and manufacturing plant by 1916.

The 20th century in Murfreesboro was defined by the growing importance of both industry and Chowan University. Murfreesboro became the home of Riverside Manufacturing Co., believed to be the world’s largest basket company, in 1927. The plant employed thousands of Murfreesboro residents for the next seven decades.

Outside of baskets, the university is a considerable draw. Chowan College closed for six years in the 1940s, but has prospered since reopening, and it became a four-year institution again in 1992. Chowan graduated a number of its best-known alumni in the late 20th century, including NBA coach Nate McMillan. Chowan counted 1,500 students in 2017, a notable achievement for a town with only about 2,800 full-time residents.

In recent decades, Murfreesboro has remembered its three centuries of history and embraced historic preservation and tourism. The Murfreesboro Historical Association incorporated in 1963 and now owns more than a dozen properties and hosts numerous events and tours each year, most notably a candlelight tour in December.

Murfreesboro is also home to the Brady C. Jefcoat Museum, a nationally known museum dedicated to the sprawling collection of everyday objects, antiques and historic artifacts owned by one man — who happened to have helped build the Memorial Belltower at North Carolina State University and dozens of other Raleigh structures — and displayed in the former high school.

While many small towns in North Carolina have at most one or two historic homes open to the public, Murfreesboro Historical Association James Moore credits the town’s commitment to sharing its history and preserving and promoting the college and the town since 2000. It has become a bedroom community to much larger, more bustling areas nearby. As Moore noted, “You can be in downtown Norfolk in an hour.” And as people continue to move to Murfreesboro, the community bolsters the historical association and provides it with the donations and interest needed to continue its work.

Today, Murfreesboro has carved its niche as a center of both education and tourism in the Inner Banks. It remains the second-largest town in Hertford County and continues to welcome new businesses such as restaurants, tattoo parlors, and recently a “barcade,” Insert Coin Arcade and Bar.

More people visit the town’s museums every year, and the Historical Association says it has the potential to expand its offerings and tours even further. Murfreesboro may not be the size of New Bern or have the prominence of Edenton, but it shows that the past — and historic preservation — can still be the future for North Carolina’s smaller coastal towns.

Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the North Carolina coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

I would like to share a collection of historical photographs from the National Archives at College Park, Maryland.

They were taken by inspectors and other personnel of the United States Lighthouse Board (1852-1910) and its successor agency, the United States Lighthouse Service (1910-1939), in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

The Lighthouse Board, and then the Lighthouse Service, had the responsibility for building and maintaining lighthouses in the U.S., but also for placing and tending many other kinds of critically important navigational aids, including range lights, buoys, light beacons, daymarks and others.

Many of those different types of navigational aids can be seen in the selection of photographs that I am featuring here. They are all from the North Carolina coast, and they date to the years 1885-1917.

As you’ll see, they include some of the most iconic historical images of the state’s lighthouses.

However, for me the portraits of lighthouses are not the stars of the show. Even if it’s just because of their rarity and freshness, I was more drawn to many of the lesser-known photographs that I found in College Park.

In particular, I was excited to find so many photographs that highlight the historic use and importance of other, rather less majestic types of navigational aides. In some cases, I had rarely, if ever, seen them discussed in books and articles on North Carolina’s maritime history.

I am thinking, for instance, of the system of range lights that have guided vessels on the Cape Fear River since the early 19th century, or the far from glamorous lens lantern at Wreck Point, just off the point of Cape Lookout, that helped so many pilots find refuge from storms in the Cape’s lee.

Many of the photographs also give us a rare view of the behind-the-scenes work that was necessary to maintain a functional system of navigational aids on the North Carolina coast.

In this case, I am thinking, for example, of several photographs that I found in College Park of the U.S. Lighthouse Service’s buoy depot that was in the port of Washington for more than half a century.

Or, as another example, I might refer you to the handful of photographs that I have included here that feature the U.S. Lighthouse Board’s gas works at Long Point Island on Currituck Sound. At that remote outpost, the U.S. Lighthouse Board’s keepers manufactured the compressed gas that was used in gas buoys over a large swath of the North Carolina coast.

Those photographs may not come with some of the romantic connotations that we so often associate with lighthouses. Yet for me at least, each of them opens a window into an important, unsung part of the state’s maritime history — and helps us to see and understand that coastal world a little bit better.

— 2 —

By most accounts, the history of navigation aids in the U.S. began with the construction of the Boston Light on Little Brewster Island in 1716.

Records of buoys and beacons in colonial America are notoriously sparse, though. According to Amy K. Marshall’s “A History of Buoys and Tenders,” there are records of cask buoys in the Delaware River in 1767 and of spar buoys in Boston Harbor as early as 1780, but not much else.

I suspect that there were at least some local buoys and beacons, and perhaps a great many, on North Carolina waters by that time as well, but the earliest I have found were wooden slats positioned to mark a channel on the Cape Fear River, below Wilmington, in the 1790s.

The framework for a more national system of navigational aids in the U.S. began to take shape around that same time. Soon after Independence, the First Congress passed an An act for the establishment and support of light-houses, beacons, buoys, and public piers that placed the responsibility for navigational aides under the authority of the Treasury Department.

Navigational aids continued to have a largely local character, and often differed widely from place to place, however, until 1848, when the U.S. Congress adopted a system of buoyage with uniform shapes, colors, and numbering — the so-called Lateral System, that, with some minor modifications, is still in use today.

— 3 —

Croatan Lighthouse in the channel between Croatan Sound and Albemarle Sound in 1914.

At that time, the Croatan Light was one of 14 manned lighthouses built on piles on North Carolina waters. The Wade Point, North River, Laurel Point, and Roanoke River lighthouses all stood on the Albemarle Sound or at the mouth of its tributaries.

The Long Shoal, Hatteras Inlet, Bluff Shoal, Gull Shoal, Brant Island, Southwest Point Royal Shoal, and Pamlico Point lighthouses were all located on Pamlico Sound.

The Croatan Lighthouse was northwest of Roanoke Island. Another lighthouse, the Harbor Island Light, was located at the entrance to Core Sound, not far from Portsmouth Island, and the Neuse River Lighthouse stood off Piney Point at the entrance to the Neuse River. According to the U.S. Coast Guard Historian’s Office, the Croatan Lighthouse had a 4th Order Fresnel Lens, as well as a fog bell that struck every 15 seconds when in use. 

— 4 —

This might be my favorite photograph of a U.S. Lighthouse Service navigational aid on the North Carolina coast. It’s a rather jerry-built back range light situated in a tree in downtown Edenton.

A front range light is evidently somewhere out in Edenton Harbor.

The front and back range lights worked together. When aligned visually, one directly behind the other, range lights indicated the route of safe passage on a river or other body of water. In this case, Edenton Harbor.

To be seen properly, the back range light had to be at least somewhat elevated above the front light, which in this case was achieved with nature’s help.

— 5 —

Debbie Mollycheck, who is the authority on the history of the Cape Fear river lights, recently told me that this photograph was probably taken during the Palmetto’s first inspection tour of the Lower Cape Fear.

The Palmetto had just recently been commissioned a shallow water tender. Ms. Mollycheck also informed me that the gentleman with his hands on his hips was the Palmetto’s master, Emil F. Redell. A family attorney by trade, Ms. Mollycheck is the granddaughter of Franto Mollycheck II, a later keeper of the Cape Fear river lights.

She has done extensive research on the river’s light keepers and is currently writing a history of those keepers and of the 6th Lighthouse District as a whole. You can learn more about her work online.

— 6 —

According to Debbie Mollycheck, Berry was an African American waterman who was born into slavery in Brunswick County in 1855. Her research has shown that Berry had been tending lights on the Lower Cape Fear since 1885.

At the time of this photograph, he had the day-in and day-out responsibility for maintaining the lights along a 14-mile section of the river from Upper Lilliput Channel to the Atlantic. This photograph was taken on the same inspection tour of the Lower Cape Fear that I referenced in the photograph above.

Keeper Berry was presumably guiding Capt. Redell and the Palmetto’s crew on the tour, with his boat being towed by the Palmetto and used when they needed to reach navigational aids on sections of the river too shallow for the Palmetto. You can learn more about Ms. Mollycheck’s research here, and I am hoping that I will be able to share more of her research on Henry Berry here sometime soon.

— 7 —

This is a rare portrait of the U.S. Lighthouse Service buoy depot in Washington March 1914. The depot was one of three or four in the Life-Saving Service’s 5th District, which extended from the Delaware coast to New Inlet, on the central part of the North Carolina coast.

At this site, personnel stored and maintained — painted, rebuilt, sometimes assembled — the buoys and beacons that were used throughout much of the North Carolina coast.

The depot was just below the town’s bridge across the Pamlico River, where its wharf was a popular, if apparently illicit swim spot for local kids. On the righthand side of this photograph, we can see the depot keeper’s house. In 1914, the keeper was Capt. T. F. Smith, a Life-Saving Service veteran who had previously been keeper of the Cape Hatteras Light for 19 years and the Ocracoke Light for 12 years. On the left, a side wheel steamer is docked on the Pamlico.

I can’t be sure — no Life-Saving Service tender was ever based at the depot — but the steamer looks a lot like the Sidewheel Lighthouse Tender Jessamine.

— 8 —

The U.S. Life-Saving Service used several different kinds of buoys to mark the locations of channels to warn of shoals and other dangers, and, in some cases, to indicate anchorage grounds.

Built of iron or steel plates and weighing anywhere from 700 to over 8,000 pounds, buoys such as these were moored to the bottom by a heavy chain attached to a concrete block, stone or cast-iron sinker. A cast-iron ballast ball, tethered directly below the buoy, kept them steady in rough seas and high winds.

Pilots could navigate in and out of a harbor, up or down a river or through another other kind of channel by eyeing the colors, numbers, and shapes of the buoys.

The maintenance and replacement of buoys was one of the U.S. Lifesaving Board and U.S. Lighthouse Service’s most important jobs, and a never-ending one.

As the U.S. Lighthouse Service’s annual report for 1915 said, “buoys are liable to be carried away, dragged, capsized, or sunk, as a result of ice or storm action, collision, and other accidents…, [but] great effort is made … to maintain them on station in an efficient condition, which frequently requires strenuous and hazardous exertions on the part of the vessels charged with this duty.” 

— 9 —

Another view of what I believe is the U.S. Lighthouse Service paddlewheel tender Jessamine tied up at the buoy depot in Washington, March 1914.

Built at the Malster & Reaney shipyard in Baltimore in 1881, the Jessamine was based at the 5th Lighthouse District’s headquarters in Baltimore but her crew built and maintained lighthouses and tended buoys and other navigational aides across much of the North Carolina coast.

Like all U.S. Lighthouse Service tenders, Jessamine was a tough, seaworthy vessel, constructed with a hull, deck framing, and the rest of her superstructure having “a large reserve of strength,” to quote a 1915 U.S. Lighthouse Service report.

Lighthouse tenders had to be capable of handling violent storms on the open ocean, as well as to navigate along shoals where shallow draft and a solid hull, capable of putting up with accidental groundings, was required.

Note the Jessamine’s forward mast, which doubled as a derrick for construction work and for hoisting and lowering buoys. The Jessamine was not, by the way, the only U.S. Lighthouse Service tender with a botanical name.

Since 1867, the U.S. Lighthouse Service had named its lighthouse tenders after trees, flowers, or other plants, generally ones native to the area where a tender operated.

— 10 —

In June 1900, crews from the U.S. Lighthouse Service’s predecessor agency, the U.S. Lighthouse Board, placed lens lantern at Wreck Point to help guide vessels seeking a lee inside Cape Lookout.

Erected at the barb at the point of Cape Lookout Bight, the light was a welcome sight for many a mariner caught offshore in heavy weather. The Wreck Point Light gives some sense of the diversity of navigational aides built and maintained by the U.S. Lighthouse Board and the U.S. Lighthouse Service.

According to The United States Lighthouse Survey for the year 1915, the U.S. Lighthouse Service had 14,554 navigational aides in commission in U.S. waters as of that year. They included lighthouses, so-called “minor lights” that are not tended by resident keepers, light vessels, gas buoys, float lights, and a wide variety of unlighted aids such as bell and whistle buoys, fog signals, and day beacons.

— 11 —

The beacon in this photograph was a temporary replacement for a slatted, 3-pile structure that was crushed by ice in the great freeze of December 1917 to January 1918.

That cold spell devastated both U.S. Lighthouse Service navigational aids and a great deal of maritime infrastructure. The ice cut away wharves and piers, took out beacons, and severely damaged at least two lighthouses. The North River Lighthouse was washed off its foundation after ice shattered its pilings. A buildup of ice also knocked askew the Norfolk & Southern’s railroad bridge across the Albemarle Sound.

According to the Jan. 25, 1918, Daily Advance in Elizabeth City, the weight of the ice made the bridge “as crooked as a snake” and a 1,000-plus foot section of the track fell into the Albemarle. Boats of all kinds were frozen in the ice; some, like the U.S. Coast Survey’s Matchless, were sunk. With no freight boats running, mail and other supplies did not reach Roanoke Island and a large section of the Outer Banks for three to four weeks.

When the ice finally broke up, U.S. Lighthouse Service crews had their hands full replacing and repairing buoys, beacons, and other navigational aids. A freeze that bad was unusual, but losing navigational aids to storms was not and kept the U.S. Lighthouse Service busy. Only a few years earlier, for instance, a 1913 hurricane destroyed 20 post lights on Pamlico and Albemarle Sound, washed out many government wharves and outbuildings, and did serious damage both to the buoy station in Washington, and to nine light stations from Ocracoke Island to Pamlico Point, according to the Washington Progress, Oct. 13, 1913.

— 12 —

The Wade Point Light Station at the mouth of the Pasquotank River was another lighthouse damaged in the great freeze of 1917-18. A screw-pile structure, the light was originally built in 1855 but was rebuilt at least once and maybe twice after Confederate guerrillas burned the superstructure during the Civil War.

It was rebuilt again in the 1890s. The station’s light and 26 x 26 cottage rested on five metal pilings roughly 12 feet above the water. During the freeze, a buildup of ice pushed the pilings to one side and left the superstructure in danger until repairs could be made to stabilize the foundation.

— 13 —

— 14 —

–15–

This is a view looking down from the U.S. Lighthouse Service tender Jessamine at the gas plant that was located at the Long Point Light Station, March 1893. Established in 1879, the station ran the gas plant in order to make the compressed gas that was used to light buoys throughout that part of the North Carolina coast.

At that time, the technology was still quite new. The country’s first gas buoy had only been deployed 12 years earlier, in 1881 at the entrance to New York Bay. Gaslit buoys were the wave of the future however. By 1915, the U.S. Lighthouse Service had more than 500 gas buoys in operation.

By then, all of the U.S. Lighthouse Service’s lighted buoys utilized compressed gas, either oil gas or acetylene. U.S. Lighthouse Service personnel deployed the gas buoys widely to mark the the entrances of rivers, inlets, and canals, as well as to signal shoals, jetties, and other dangers, as well as the paths of channels.

— 16 —

The brick building on the right is the Long Point Light Station’s retort house, where special equipment distilled and compressed the oil gas that was used in the region’s U.S. Lighthouse Board light buoys. On the left, we can see one of the two brick cisterns that were used for storing the gas. The rest of the gas works is in the background. According to research by Currituck Sound teacher and historian (and my friend) Barbara Snowden, the resulting gas was what was typically called at the time “Pintsch gas.”

Named after its inventor, a German tinsmith and manufacturer named Carl Friedrich Julius Pintsch, it was a compressed fuel gas created from distilled naphtha. Pintsch’s firm pioneered its use in buoys in the 1870s, and the U.S. Lighthouse Service used the gas extensively in buoys and other lighted navigational aides through the First World War, when it was largely replaced by acetylene.

Widely used in railroad cars as well, “Pintsch gas” could often light a buoy for a couple months or longer without refilling.

— 17 —

Originally built in 1817, the lighthouse was long a welcome sight to mariners at the entrance to the Cape Fear River. In July 1834, Capt. Henry D. Hunter of the revenue cutter Tanker described the Light as having 15 lamps, being 109 feet above the level of the sea, and showing a fixed light.

On an inspection tour two years later, he reported, “The keeper is an old Revolutionary [War] soldier and is unable from sickness to give the lighthouse his constant personal attention. The light, however, shows well from a distance,” according to the U.S. Coast Guard Historian’s Office.

— 18 —

The Keeper’s House at the Ocracoke Light Station, May 1893. You can’t see it in this photograph, but the Ocracoke Lighthouse, built in 1823, is just a few feet to the north.

I would expect that the three individuals in the photo are the light station’s keeper at that time, Enoch Ellis Howard, his wife Cordelia, and one of their daughters or granddaughters. According to Ellen Cloud’s book, “Ocracoke Lighthouse,” Enoch Ellis Howard was born on Ocracoke in 1833, became keeper of the light during the Civil War, and died while still serving as the Light Station’s keeper in 1897.

He was one of many Ocracoke Howards who made their livings following the sea one way or the other as ship’s pilots, mariners, coast guardsmen, and in other maritime trades, including, some say, one who was a member of Blackbeard’s crew in the early 1700s. 

Phillip Howard’s Village Craftsmen Journal is a wonderful place to learn more about the history of the Howard family on Ocracoke, as well as much else about the island’s history.

— 19 —

As I mentioned earlier, range lights are a pair of lit beacons placed some distance from one another, with the back light elevated higher than the front light. By lining up the two beacons, ship pilots could identify the channel that would afford safe passage through shallow or dangerous waters. They are sometimes used to fix position as well.

— 21 —

In addition to lighted navigational aids, the U.S. Lighthouse Service also built and maintained thousands of navigational aids that were not lighted– so-called “daymarks” that were only meant to be visible from sunrise to sunset. This 32-foot high structure, for instance, helped pilots get their bearings at the Little River Inlet, roughly 50 miles south of Wilmington.

— 22 —

Cape Lookout Light Station, 1889. I don’t know if I’ve seen a photograph that better captures the austere beauty of the Cape in that day and time. The building on the far right is the original Keeper’s Quarters, built in 1812 and apparently abandoned by this point in time. On both sides of the lighthouse’s base, we can just glimpse the two chimneys of the second Keeper’s Quarters, built in 1873. The two outbuildings to the right of the lighthouse are an oil house and perhaps a coal shed or other storage building.

— 23 —

These are the ruins of the keeper’s dwelling at the Price’s Creek Light Station on the Cape Fear River, just upriver of Southport, June 1917. Built in 1849, the brick dwelling had a wooden lantern that served as one of the range lights that guided vessels through the river’s ship channel.

This structure has since been destroyed by storms, but the ruins of the second range light at Price Creek, a squat 20-foot high brick tower, have survived and can be easily seen from the Southport-Fort Fisher Ferry.

— 24 —

–end–

Coastal Review is featuring the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who shares on his website essays and lectures about the state’s coast. He brings readers along on his search for the lost stories of our coastal past in the museums, libraries and archives where he visits in the U.S. and across the globe. 

MANTEO — A two-day program held here last week brought together researchers who study the Indigenous people of the late 16th century who lived in what is now northeastern North Carolina.

Held on the College of The Albemarle Dare County Campus, the two-day program, “In the Spirit of Wingina … and beyond,” was sponsored by the nonprofit Secotan Alliance and focused on what happened when the English first encountered the Native peoples of the Albemarle region.

The event’s keynote speaker, Dr. Michael Oberg, distinguished professor of history at the University of New York at Geneseo, is the author of “The Head in Edward Nugent’s Hand,” which details the events leading to the death of King or Chief Wingina of the Roanoac.

Wingina was among those to first greet English captains Philip Amadas and Arthur Barlowe. In their account, the explorers reported to Queen Elizabeth I that “The king is called Wingina, the countrey Wingandacoa.”

The captains’ account makes clear that Wingina was initially friendly to the English.

“Hee made all signes of joy and welcome, striking on his head and his breast and afterwardes on ours to shew wee were all one, smiling and making shewe the best he could of al love, and familiaritie,” the explorers wrote.

By the time of the second English expedition, however, under the military command of Ralph Lane, European disease had begun to ravage the Native populations. Wingina was apparently becoming convinced that there was something spiritually out of balance in the lives of his people.

Oberg noted during his talk that the Roanoke were at the time part of the Algonkin, or Algonquin, people and that they operated, “on a belief that bad things happen for reasons often tied to the failure or the ineffectiveness of rituals or the malevolence of spiritually powerful figures.”

The Roanoac attempted prayer with the English, with Wingina and his people going to great lengths to change the horror of the diseases that were ravaging their villages.

“He (Wingina) and some of his people took the Bible, the most physical manifestation in English ritual … and rubbed the book on his body,” Oberg said.

Nothing worked and so the Native people withdrew from Roanoke Island, but before leaving, Wingina told Lane there was a gathering of tribes at the headwaters of the Albemarle Sound that were planning on attacking and wiping out the English.

Lane headed to the village of Chowanoac, captured the chief, who under duress said that Wingina was the actual plotter.

Lane then returned to Wingina’s village where he requested a meeting over what he claimed was the theft of a silver cup.

On June 15, 1586, Lane and Wingina met.

“After some time talking, Lane yells out the password, ‘Christ our victor,” and they opened fire,” Oberg said of the incident.

Wounded, Wingina ran into the forest with English soldiers in pursuit. Sometime later “… Edward Nugent emerges from the woods with Wingina’s head.”

With that history of deception and violence on the part of the English, the failure of the Roanoke Colony and the 115 to 120 colonists who arrived in 1587 may have seemed preordained.

There were, however, other factors.

Studies of tree rings show that the colonists arrived during a time of extreme drought, when it was all the area Tribal nations could do to feed themselves.

There was also a diplomatic outreach from the governor of the colony, John White, following the killing of colonist George Howe at the hands of a tribal leader, Wanchese.

The attempted diplomacy ended disastrously, with White, who had failed to get what he wanted from the local tribe, attacking a village, where “he kills the wrong people,” Oberg noted.

“And, like all little men and cowards, blame the victims,” Oberg continued. “‘If only they told us they were there, we wouldn’t have killed them.’”

Oberg, who had attended opening night of the outdoor drama, “The Lost Colony,” on Roanoke Island on the night before his lecture, talked about how the drama interpreted historic events.

“If you went to the play, you’ve seen one version of (what happened). I’m certain I don’t know what happened,” he said. “Whatever happened, Indigenous people decided their fate.”

For the Native people, it was the beginning of a period of change that was traumatic and devastating.

Oberg emphasized that there is a tendency to think of the story of the founding of the United States as a seminal event, but to the Native people it may have simply been a continuation of what they had already been experiencing.

“Was it just one chapter in a prolonged era of warfare that ran from the middle of the 18th century through the first quarter of the 19th century, the replacement of one tyrant imperialist, George III, with another, George the First, Washington?” Oberg asked.

Symposium attendees also heard from Dr. Charles Ewen, East Carolina University Harriet College Distinguished Professor of Anthropology, who explained how few contemporaneous accounts exist and that those accounts are from a European perspective.

He pointed in particular to what the Native tribes described as a village that would be the modern equivalent of a “crossroad where there’s a 7-11 and a gas station.”

North Carolina Central University Dean of Arts, Social Sciences and Humanities Dr. Arwin Smallwood was reared in Bertie County and is a member of the North Carolina Tuscarora people. He focused on the history of the Tuscarora Nation and the relationship between North Carolina and New York stat,e where many of the Nation moved after the 1711-15 Tuscarora War.

Dr. Gabrielle Tayac shared a description of Powhatan’s Mantle, a decorative garment that has been in England since the middle of the 17th century. Now housed at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, England, it could be worn, although it is so large and heavy it was doubtful that it would have been.

Consisting of four hides sewn together with sinew and thousands of shells embedded in the fabric, the work that went into the piece is extraordinary, as is its artistry. As an example of the skill and creativity of the people of the coastal area, there may be nothing else quite like it.

Also included during the two-day event were the sounds of Native American song, dance and storytelling performed by solo performer IOSDN.

Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the North Carolina coast. More of his work can be found on his personal website.

A few days ago, I gave the keynote address at an extraordinary event held in Plymouth to commemorate the Plymouth Massacre of April 1864. I found the event deeply moving, and I was honored to be there. This is a copy of my remarks.

Thank you for the invitation to say a few words here today. I will do my best not to go on too long, but I do feel as if some things need to be said. I of course will talk about the Plymouth Massacre. But I also want to talk at least briefly about the larger struggle for freedom, and to end slavery, that occurred here in Washington County and across the North Carolina coast during the Civil War.

I think that taking that somewhat broader view will help us to understand better what happened here in Plymouth and will help us to remember, mourn, and honor more fully those who lost their lives here 160 years ago.

In a way, I feel as if this is the funeral, the memorial service, that the victims of the massacre never had. They were unburied, left, by all accounts, where they fell, many of them in swamps where children would find their remains in the following days and weeks. No gravestones marked their passing. No monument has ever been raised to remember them.

We are here, then, to do what should have been done a long time ago. We are here to say words that for too long have not been spoken. We are here to lift prayers that are long overdue.

We are here to make sure that the forgotten will be remembered.

If you will bear with me, I will begin by setting the scene for what happened here in Plymouth.

At the beginning of the Civil War, Plymouth was a small town, quite a bit smaller than it is today. Most of the town’s population was African American, and the large majority of those Black men, women, and children were being held in slavery.

On the outskirts of Plymouth, on the Roanoke River, at Lake Phelps, and here and yon in every direction, thousands of African Americans were being held captive on plantations — slave labor camps, I think we would call them today, a kind of gulag of their time.

As we all know, by the time that the Civil War began in April 1861, white Southerners —and much of the North — had been treating African Americans as property, not as human beings, for more than two centuries. People, including little children, were bought and sold like mules.

That world — that way of life — finally began to crumble here in Washington County in the early part of 1862.

Very early in the Civil War, Union forces captured a long sliver of the North Carolina coast. Even before the first Yankee soldier stepped ashore, enslaved African Americans began to escape from plantations across Eastern North Carolina and move toward the sea.

Hundreds, then thousands, of African American men, women, and children fled from bondage in Confederate territory to freedom in New Bern, Beaufort, Washington, Roanoke Island—and Plymouth. As the Union force’s commanding general said, those communities were “overrun with fugitives from the surrounding towns and plantations.”

A great boatlift to freedom had begun. Across the sound here, on the Chowan River, slaves sailed away while their master shot at them from shore. Another night, a slave woman named Juno gathered her children into a dugout canoe and paddled down the Neuse River to freedom. A little east of here, at Columbia, a large group of African Americans confiscated a schooner and sailed down the Scuppernong and across the Albemarle Sound.

A little to our west, a Black boatman known as “Big Bob” carried 16 slaves down the Tar River to freedom, then turned and went back upriver for more.

Here in Plymouth, a group of slaves “patched until their patches themselves were rags” escaped and sailed through stormy weather and rough seas all the way to Roanoke Island. “How they succeeded is a wonder to us all,” a Yankee soldier exclaimed.

A little southeast of here, in Hyde County, an overseer informed a plantation’s owner that he could no longer control the enslaved men and women on the plantation, no matter what he did. Some had already escaped to Union lines. He said that he had even shot “old Pompey.”

Ten days later, that overseer reported that “something like 100 [slaves had] gone off in the last month,” 35 in a single night.

 “Almost every day negroes are shot … for attempting to run away,” a journalist in Goldsboro reported. One plantation owner, William Loftin, described the situation in letters to his mother. Even before Yankee troops reached Roanoke Island, he wrote that “a good many negroes are running away” and “all of mine are gone from the oldest to the youngest.”

“All that I ever had is gone,” Loftin wrote. Later, in 1863, reality really set in. “My boy Tony came up with the Yankees in full uniform saying he was a U.S. soldier…. He went to J. H. Bryan’s and took his gun away from him. He says he has killed four damned rebels…. He had a rifle strapped to his back.”

William Loftin’s ”boy Tony” was only the beginning. By the spring of 1864, thousands of African Americans on the North Carolina coast had joined the Union army. By war’s end, nearly 180,000 African American men had served or were serving in the Union army. (Forty thousand of them did not survive the war.) Another 19,000 served in the Union navy.

The Civil War here in Plymouth was not much like the one that you or I read about in our history books when we were young (especially if you are my age) or that you may have seen in movies such as “Gone With the Wind” or even in more recent documentaries such as Ken Burns’ “Civil War.”

The large majority of Washington County’s people were opposed to the Confederacy. Half the population, we have to remember, was African American, and large numbers of the county’s white citizens also supported the Union. In fact, in Washington County, roughly as many white men enlisted in the Union army as enlisted in the Confederate army.

The divisions among the county’s white people were deep and bitter. To quote one leading historian, here in Washington County, “Brother fought brother. Neighbor attacked neighbor.”

Prior to the Battle of Plymouth, the low point was probably in December 1862, when, in a quick in-and-out raid, Confederate troops burned most of the town.  (By that time, Plymouth had been in Union hands for months. Town leaders had peacefully handed the town over to the Union army in May 1862.)  According to a local planter, the Rebel troops burned the town to “prevent its affording shelter to the Abolitionists and run away [sic] negroes …”

By that time, a Union private reported, Plymouth had become “a general rendezvous for fugitive slaves.” They escaped from plantations far up the Roanoke, and many got their first taste of freedom on the ground where we stand.

Many of those Black men enlisted in the Union Army. For the first time, many Black families were also able to send their children to schools that had been started here so that they could learn to read and write and do arithmetic. (None of the Confederate states allowed Black children to go to school.)

By the spring of 1864, Plymouth had been held by Union troops for nearly two years. But on April 17th, some 7,000 Rebel troops under Major Gen. Robert F. Hoke lay siege to the town, hoping to take it back from the Union and make it once again part of the slave South.

Every Black man here, both those in uniform and those that were civilians, including many fugitive slaves, understood the danger. If Plymouth fell, they could expect at the very least to be re-enslaved. But by that point in the war, most African Americans understood that, if rebel troops captured them in battle, or found them wounded on the battlefield, they might well be murdered.

By the spring of 1864, relatively well-known Confederate massacres of Black Union soldiers had occurred at Fort Pillow, Tennessee; Fort Wagner, South Carolina; Milliken’s Bend, Louisiana; Poison Springs, Arkansas; and at Saltville, the Crater, and Suffolk, Virginia.

But there were others. Many killings of Black Union prisoners did not make even a ripple in the news. Memory of them was lost in the fog of war, the slowness with which news traveled, and the reluctance, even in the North, to take the accounts of Black witnesses at face value.

The Battle of Olustee was one of those. Early in 1864, reports of a massacre of wounded Black soldiers from the 35^th Regiment, United States Colored Troops, after an especially bloody battle in Olustee, Florida, reached New Bern. (The 35^th had been recruited in and around New Bern.)

After Olustee, Union leaders had grown suspicious because the Confederate commander supplied them with such a short list of Union soldiers wounded or taken prisoner in the battle. But not for some months did they conclude what the surviving Black soldiers had always known, that “most of the wounded colored men were murdered in the field.”

I do not know if the Black men and women here in Plymouth knew that Confederate general Robert Ransom’s soldiers were among the Rebel troops attacking Union positions here in Plymouth. But if they did know, they would have expected the worst. Ransom’s Brigade was one of those Confederate units notorious for not taking Black prisoners alive.

Ransom’s own men wrote about that policy. Only a month earlier, Ransom’s Brigade had taken no prisoners after encountering Black troops of the 2^nd Regiment, United States Colored Calvary, 75 miles from here, at Suffolk, Virginia. “Ransom’s Brigade never takes any negro prisoners,” one of Ransom’s soldiers bragged in a letter to the Charlotte Observer.

Another of Ransom’s soldiers, Pvt. Gabriel Sherrill, echoed those words. In a letter home a few weeks before the Battle of Plymouth, he wrote, referring to Black soldiers, “They will fite,” rather than surrender, “for they know that it is deth eny way if we got hold of them for wee have no quarters for a negroe.”

One of Ransom’s officers, Maj. John W. Graham, said much the same in a letter to his father. (Graham’s father represented North Carolina in the Confederacy’s senate.) In that letter, Maj. Graham said, speaking of Suffolk, the “ladies … were standing at their doors, some waving handkerchiefs, some crying, some praying, and others calling to us to `kill the negroes.’”

He told his father, “Our brigade did not need this to make them give `no quarter,’ as it is understood amongst us that we take no Negro prisoners.”

After a very bloody, four-day siege — one hard on both sides, but with especially heavy Confederate casualties — Hoke’s forces did capture the town of Plymouth on April 20^th, 1864. At that point, Rebel troops were left to ransack the town and the worst fears of the Black people and the white Unionists in the town were realized.

One of the first historians to write about the Plymouth Massacre in any detail was Dr. Wayne Durrill. Durrill earned his Ph.D. in history at the University of North Carolina in 1987, and he is now a professor at the University of Cincinnati. His book “War of Another Kind“ is the fullest scholarly study of the Civil War here in Washington County.

In his book, Professor Durrill quotes the only known account of the Battle of Plymouth given by an African American eyewitness, a man who identified himself as a Union sergeant. “Upon the capture of Plymouth by the rebel forces, all the negroes found in blue uniform, or with any outward marks of a Union soldier upon him, was killed,” he testified.

The Black eyewitness also observed that “some [were] taken into the woods and hung … Others I saw stripped of all their clothing and then stood upon the bank of the river with the faces riverward, and there they were shot … Still others were killed by having their brains beaten out by the butt-end of the muskets in the hands of the rebels.”

Professor Durrill quotes another Union serviceman, a white lieutenant named Alonzo Cooper, of the 12^th New York Volunteers, who reported that “the negro soldiers who had surrendered, were drawn up in line at the breastwork, and shot down as they stood.”

According to another eyewitness, when an unknown number of Black men, probably Union enlistees, saw what was happening and fired at Confederate troops, the Confederates “charged them with every conceivable weapon in their possession, whereupon the negroes [most of whom were unarmed] ran, taking refuge in Coneby Creek swamp and the flats beyond, scarcely a mile away.”

According to that account, the Rebels followed them into the swamp and “slaughtered” them “like rats.” Lt. Cooper, recalled, “the crack, crack of muskets down in the swamp where the negroes had fled to escape capture,” and reported that the Blacks were “hunted like squirrels or rabbits.”

Years later, B. D. Latham, who was a 12-year-old boy at the time, remembered that he and some other local white boys went into the swamp the Sunday morning after the battle. Professor Durrill wrote: “There they saw `hundreds of slain negro troops,’ their bodies having been left to decay for four days.”

Soon after Professor Durrill’s book was published, two highly respected Civil War historians, Weymouth T. Jordan and Gerald W. Thomas, undertook a far more exhaustive and in-depth study of the Battle of Plymouth’s aftermath. Deeply knowledgeable of the Civil War, both had, and have, reputations for being conservative, judicious, and diligent scholars.

Their goal was first to determine if what happened in Plymouth should truly be called a “massacre” and — if a massacre did occur here — how many people were killed.

At the time of their study, Jordan was the head of the Civil War Roster Project at the N.C. Division of Archives and History. Thomas, a native of Bertie County, had nearly finished his book “Divided Allegiances: Bertie County during the Civil War,” but took a break to assist Jordan to get to the bottom of what happened in Plymouth.

Together they sifted through thousands of pages of historical evidence. They then presented their results in a 72-page article called “Massacre at Plymouth:  April 20, 1864.” That article was published in the North Carolina Historical Review, the state’s foremost historical journal, in the spring of 1995. To this day, it remains the definitive study of what happened here in Plymouth.

Theirs was a very cautious approach. They did not accept evidence that could not be corroborated, and they looked askance at evidence if the individual that was the source of that evidence had any reason to exaggerate or be dismissive of claims of a massacre.

At times, when I reviewed their research, I personally felt that they may have been too cautious and leant over backwards too far for the sake of wanting their research to be utterly beyond reproach.

In their article, Jordan and Thomas acknowledged that we will probably never know every detail of what happened here on those April days in 1864, or know the exact number of people that lost their lives here. Yet their findings were unambiguous. In their conclusion, they wrote, “it is clear that blacks and Buffaloes [white Unionists] were killed at Plymouth under circumstances that merit the appellation `massacre’….”

They concluded that Confederate troops, mainly Ransom’s Brigade and cavalrymen led by Col. James Dearing, executed approximately 25 Black prisoners in the first days after the Battle of Plymouth. “Some blacks captured in uniform were shot out of hand…. [S]ome were dispatched later, [and] some black male civilians were murdered also….”

They went on to say: “The number of blacks, uniformed and otherwise, who were murdered in Plymouth on April 20 was probably no more than 10. Fifteen more may have been executed on April 23 or 24…. Forty were killed as they fled the battlefield, [and] 40 were hunted down and dispatched in the swamps.” Others died in combat, hundreds of others managed to escape, and “approximately 400, including a few uniformed soldiers and many women and children, were captured and taken prisoner.”

At least a handful of “Buffaloes” — the white Unionists — were also killed either in town or in the swamps.

To me one of the war’s most remarkable phenomenon was the courage and determination that African Americans soldiers and sailors displayed even though they knew that this kind of treatment could well be their fate whenever, and wherever, they fell into Rebel hands.

“We have fought … where captivity meant cool murder on the field, by fire, sword, and halter; and yet no black man ever flinched,” African American delegates — including North Carolina’s Abraham Galloway — declared at a convention of African American leaders in 1864.

Here in Plymouth, as well as on distant battlefields, America’s Black soldiers held onto a prophetic vision of the Civil War that in their eyes justified their hardships and sacrifices.

We have to remember: their courage, and their willingness to fight and die, was rooted in something bigger than themselves and far more personal than the Union cause. Their Civil War — the slaves’ Civil War — was grounded in the love of their wives and children, their brothers and sisters, their mothers and grandmothers, their yet-to-be-born grandchildren and great-grandchildren, all of whom, if they prevailed, would be free.

If they prevailed, they knew, a child of theirs might one day go to school. A son might not be whipped to his last breath. A daughter could be raised in safety. Husbands and wives would know that they could grow old together.

If they prevailed, the unspeakable fear that a child could be taken away from them at any age, and at any moment, of any day, would disappear forever. A man or woman’s work would be their own.

A Black Union sergeant named Charles Brown expressed the prevailing sentiment among the country’s Black soldiers as well as anyone in the ranks.

While encamped near New Bern, Sgt. Brown weighed the dangers that his company faced from Confederate soldiers, as well as the discrimination that his men faced within the Union army due to their race.

And yet he wrote: “I feel more inclined daily, to press the army on further and further; and, let my opposition be in life what it will, I do firmly vow that I will fight as long as a star can be seen, and if it should be my lot to be cut down in battle, I do believe… that my soul will be forever at rest.”

As his regiment marched into battle, Brown said, they sang:

We are the gallant first 
Who slightly have been tried, 
Who ordered to a battle, 
Take Jesus for our guide.

May all of their souls forever be at rest. May they all be remembered. May we all find hope in the stars as they did.

Note: Photographer Sharon C. Bryant is the African American Outreach Coordinator at Tryon Palace in New Bern, and she prepared extensive educational materials on the history of the 35th USCT that were displayed at the encampment in Plymouth.

HATTERAS — Following last week’s private tours and state officials doing the honors at a ribbon-cutting ceremony, the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum reopened to the public Monday with a brand-new exhibit gallery that artfully illustrates the sweep of four centuries of some of the most dramatic maritime history in the world.

“I have a question for you,” said North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources Secretary Reid Wilson during his remarks Thursday. “The last five letters of the word history — what do those letters spell? Story.”

And that is the value of museums: telling the human story, he told a large crowd gathered for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Understanding where we were, he added, is the only way we move forward.

“We should not be scared of our history,” he said. “We should learn from it.”

For the island community, the celebration is more than the museum reopening; the celebration is that it is completed. It took 38 years of persistence from stubborn Hatteras Villagers to get there. But that’s another story.

“Goodness gracious, I hardly know where to begin to thank the hundreds of individuals and entities who this important cultural facility would not be possible without them and their sacrifices both personal and in their livelihoods,” said Danny Couch, president of the nonprofit Friends of the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum, in his remarks Thursday.

Couch, a Hatteras Island native, is one of those who stuck it out for decades, never letting go of the idea that Hatteras had to have a maritime museum.

“Raleigh (officials) said it should be in Manteo or Nags Head,” he told Coastal Review in a later interview. “Which is the last thing you want to tell a Hatterasman.”

Standing at the entrance in front of a huge digital measuring stick showing current weather conditions and past hurricane details, Wilson applauded the new state-of-the-art exhibits that include features such as touchscreens, holographic historic people and a huge dynamic sculpture of lifesavers rowing a surfboat through a stormy sea.

The Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum harbors a motherlode of maritime stories unique to the Outer Banks, from colonial exploration to piracy to heroic lifesaving service rescues to vicious U-boat attacks to premier boatbuilding.

Situated off the treacherous Diamond Shoals, which squeezed vessels transiting the Atlantic shipping lane close to Cape Hatteras, the Outer Banks has the largest number of the 2,000 shipwrecks scattered along the North Carolina coast.

Today, shipwrecks are only part of subject at the museum, but their significant role on the Outer Banks was the spark that ignited the idea for the museum in Hatteras Village and villagers’ minds. Some islanders have compared a shipwreck off the beach in the old days to a Walmart store spilling its contents today.

Couch remembers the seed first germinating, back in 1973 when a team on the Research Vessel Eastward from Duke University’s Marine Laboratory in Beaufort discovered the long-sought Civil War-era ironclad U.S.S. Monitor 16 miles off the Hatteras coast, where it sank in a storm on New Year’s Eve, 1862.

“Literally, when the Eastward was over top, we saw it as a tremendous opportunity,” he said. “We thought it was a great way to bring in people and a great way to tell our history here.”

There was no place to house even a few artifacts, but villagers wanted to find funding to build a museum. The Monitor was designated as a National Marine Sanctuary, the nation’s first, in 1975. It was to be managed by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. In 1987, The Mariners’ Museum in Newport News, Virginia, was chosen as the principal repository for more than 210 tons of artifacts recovered from the wreck site.

Villagers were disappointed, but they knew they were up against strong competition.

“A lot of it is the isolation out here,” Couch said about being passed over.

But a year before the Virginia museum was selected, local representatives from the National Park Service and Congress encouraged the nonprofit Hatteras Village Civic Association to compete for the artifacts. Thanks largely to Rep. Walter Jones Sr., a Democrat who represented the Outer Banks at the time, Congress in 1988 passed a bill that funded a feasibility and design-development plan. Jones also made sure that any future Hatteras museum would get a share of Monitor artifacts.

The museum was formally incorporated the next year and designated a nonprofit educational organization in 1991. The National Park Service agreed for a nominal fee to lease the museum 7 acres near the Hatteras docks.

Cathy Parsons, one of the original museum board members, during a chat in the gallery after the ribbon-cutting, remembered the then-Cape Hatteras National Seashore superintendent’s excitement.

“Tom Hartman came running up to us and said, ‘Hey, we’ve got a plan!’” she recounted about the superintendent, who was especially supportive of the museum idea. “He said, ‘Y’all should pull something together and put a bid in for the artifacts.’ We did that.”

Along with Belinda Willis and Katie Oden, Parsons is one of the original group of villagers who somehow pulled together the support and money to build the museum.

“It was a group effort,” she said. “They did all the work. All I did was the money part.”

Willis said that the museum originally was going to be small — about 6,500 square feet — and would look like an old Coast Guard station. She described interviewing to find a director, a fundraiser and the architect. Money started coming in: $1 million from NOAA, $800,000 from the state.

Before long, the museum building and its concept expanded.

“It just was mushrooming and mushrooming until we realized that we had a tiger by the tail,” Couch said.

From 1995 to December 1999, additional state and federal support rolled in, and construction began Dec. 10, 1999. The nearly 19,000-square-foot museum, with its imposing ship-like exterior, opened in 2002, with its interior partially completed.

Joseph Schwarzer, who retired in March, was hired as the museum’s executive director in 1995, and he later became director of all three state maritime museums.

Along with Schwarzer’s yeoman work at the helm, the three women who still live in Hatteras also gave credit to their late fellow board member Dale Burrus, who mastered dealing with the political aspects and reveled in talking about the island’s maritime history and the importance of the museum in its telling. Then there was dedication of other late advocates, Richard Jones with the Hatteras Monitor and the late Irene Nolan, then-editor of the Island Breeze and later the founder and editor of the Island Free Press, who volunteered for the museum and kept the islanders informed about the project.

Over the years, continued contributions of charitable funds and grants, including from the Outer Banks Visitors Bureau, allowed slow progress on the museum, which had been transferred to the state in 2007.

The museum proved to be a popular public attraction, despite its limited exhibits. But to the frustration of the island community — and Schwarzer — funding always seemed to fall short of finishing the gallery and the exhibits.

There were plenty of times they wanted to give up, the women agreed.

“Lots of times,” Willis said. “Then something would happen and we’d get a little push forward.

“We wrote many a letter.”

Meanwhile, as Willis put it, “the community lost faith in us.” Added Oden: “For 20 years, they’d keep hearing how close we’re getting, how close we’re getting. When we finally opened up, none of this was here. They would be shocked.”

In 2021, money was provided for renovations, and in 2022, contractor Riggs Ward Design started work on the exhibit design.

In addition to the Monomoy surf boat in the center of the gallery area, a first-order Fresnel lens that had once been atop the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse dominates the exhibits, which include numerous artifacts ranging from Native Americans here, early English settlements, wars and shipwrecks, including U-boats.

As visitors step into the museum, they’re greeted with a huge video screen with scenes that thrust them into the ocean with lifesavers and fishers and sailors and that carries them over the barrier islands for a bird’s-eye view. All doors open automatically in the middle like those on Star Trek to ensure temperature control. And the Meekins Chandlery Gift Shop now has entrances from the lobby and the museum.

“This is where the state of North Carolina — as a colony — began to develop, to lead us where we are today,” North Carolina Office of Archives and History Deputy Secretary Darin Waters told attendees before the ribbon-cutting. “And I’m so proud of the fact that you are going to see all of that told within this museum.”

North Carolina Maritime Museums System Interim Director Maria Vann, who joined the project in 2023, said the gallery “has been re-imaged as a treasure chest filled with this region’s unique tales of tragedy and triumph.”

Vann said in a later interview that the selection of a new director is underway, but she is not involved.

“The department will make the decision,” she said. “That decision is not mine.”

Now that the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum is actually completed, the former board members said they believe that villagers will be more supportive and start pulling out their old shipwreck artifacts from under the bed to donate to the museum.

“Finally — after all these years!” the women exclaimed in unison.

“This is our vision: a world-class museum that can be enjoyed by everyone,” Willis added.

“It’s a national museum. It’s a peoples’ museum.”

Since 2013 Steve and Sally Gudas have been organizing and hosting a Flat Top Cottage tour in Southern Shores, giving people a chance to see and experience, if for a brief time, an iconic part of Outer Banks architectural history.

This year, that tour was Saturday, and more than 1,000 came out — a record attendance, the Gudases said. It was 1,013 to be exact, compared to 2022, “when we had 722,” Sally Gudas told Coastal Review Wednesday.

Built over a 15-year span beginning in the late 1940s, the houses were simple structures. Designed for a summer vacation, the homes were concrete block construction. There was no foundation really, just a concrete floor on sand. And there was no insulation.

“When, we come in here when it’s cold, it takes one full day to get it warm, including the fireplace. Thank God for that,” Steve Gudas said Sunday, having been too busy to chat during the tour.

The houses were designed by Frank Stick, an artist, real estate developer and, to many, a visionary with a knack for self-promotion. In 1946, Stick had just purchased the 2,600 acres that now comprise Southern Shores, and he had the idea that to sell each lot and home for one flat price.

But to do that, he needed something that was easy to build and used as much locally sourced material as he could get his hands on. The sand came from Outer Banks beaches, until the federal government made that illegal in 1955. The structural beams, the cabinets — any interior wood — were all juniper, which at the time was readily available and the cheapest wood to be had.

Frank Stick also, as his son, David, wrote, “… introduced a completely new cottage style for the Outer Banks … What he came up with was flat-top structures of varying sizes and shapes, using concrete blocks as the primary building material.”

Related: Frank Stick finds success, designs signature Banks cottage

Tours of the homes were held this past weekend and revealed just how varied the flat-top design could be, and how the structures – each uniquely named – evolved over the decades.

Sea Breezes, built in 1956, was originally a duplex, but the common wall was removed some time after it was built, and a sliding pocket wall was put into place. This modification allowed the house to be used as either two, two-bedroom cottages or a single, four-bedroom home.

Pink Perfection, built in 1952, is a rambling four-bedroom Flat Top. Unlike almost all of other Flat Tops, it was neither designed nor built by Frank Stick.

Aside from the obvious design element, there are among the Flat Tops several similarities. Among them, in almost every house, the original juniper beams and trim have been retained. Outside, almost all have wide soffits.

Very few are still in the original owners’ hands. Ashbel Falconer is an exception. The Falconer Cottage his parents purchased in 1955 when he was 4 is situated on a side street, atop a low rise that, at one time, had an unobstructed view of the ocean. Not anymore. Live oaks and other houses block that view now.

“The only thing that was here was sea oats and sand spurs,” Falconer told Coastal Review recently. “It was all sand.”

The tidy homes are a labor of love for the owners, as Falconer noted with a laugh.

“They are maintenance hogs.”

Steve Gudas shares that sentiment. “When you own it, you’re just invested in it,” he said.

Preserving a legacy

Matt Neal, owner of Neal Contracting of Kitty Hawk, has been in love with Flat Tops since his family lived in one when he was a child.

“In the late ’80s, early ’90s, we lived in one for a period of time in Kill Devil Hills, and so it’s always been a childhood memory of mine,” Neal said recently.

He now owns a Flat Top built in the 1950s in Southern Shores, although he describes it as “full-flat roof —  a low, sloped, single shed-style roof.”

His experience in restoring reflected the challenges other owners know from simply maintaining one. “It’s a challenge,” Neal said.

“It was fun in a way,” he said.

“I would take juniper out of the interior closets and use it to refurbish the cabinets. And I had to take the juniper off the wall in the bathroom to update the wiring and then put it back,” Neal explained. “That house had a slab (floor) that had no vapor barrier. We were able to get the old linoleum up, put a vapor barrier on top of the slab (and) put cork flooring down and keep … original doors and hardware. And it still has the original windows.”

The homes are also vanishing. While unclear how many there were originally, some estimate as many as 300, Sally Gudas told Coastal Review that number seems high.

“I don’t think it’s 300,” she said. “I’ve been asked that question. I just really don’t know. But I am working on it.”

She has a reasonable guess as to how many are still standing in Southern Shores.

“I think we’ve identified 25,” she said.

There are attempts to preserve the structures. The town of Southern Shores created a Historic Landmarks Commission that evaluates homes more than 50 years old. If a house meets the criteria, property owners get a reduction in their town property tax.

To date, there have been five Flat Tops added to the program, although additional property owners have submitted applications.

Tax incentives alone, however, are not enough to save the buildings. With property values in the millions along the oceanfront, the economics of preservation may not add up when a property is passed to two or three sibling heirs.

There is increasing concern that the Flat Top legacy will be lost.

Architect Chris Nason of the Kill Devil Hills-based Beacon Architecture and Design is a Southern Shores resident who has for the past seven or eight years been documenting Flat Tops in town.

“It was just a first impulse,” he told Coastal Review. “So we’ve got this moment in time. Let’s just measure it, take pictures.”

Initially Nason wasn’t sure what he would do with his documentation, but since he began the project, it has become a historic record and teaching tool for his interns.

“It was a good learning experience for them. You can learn to take measurements on a small house. It’s a perfect learning experience,” Nason said.

As an architect, Nason would like to see as many of the houses saved as possible, but he acknowledged that it can’t always happen.

“I am both realistic and aspirational about encouraging folks to keep them,” he said. “These things don’t meet any codes. They’re oftentimes too low. They don’t meet the flood zone. There’s all sorts of reasons not to keep them, but that doesn’t mean we don’t try, and where we can’t keep it, it’s great to come back with something that is inspired by what was there,” he said.

To date, Nason has measured and created elevations for 34 homes, many of them no longer exist. He has created a website documenting his work, and is hoping more can be done with it.

“Eventually our goal is to do a book on it and put these plans in a book and do some photography with it. That’s still in the works,” he said.

Neal, in addition to restoring the home he owns, is also working to preserve the legacy and has built three homes based on the Flat Top design.

He characterizes the concept as Usonian, which is a Frank Lloyd Wright term to describe a single-story, flat-roofed home with wide eaves using as many locally sourced building materials as possible.

Building a home for the 21st century meant taking the original concept and bringing it to modern standards and efficiency.

“It’s always astonishing to me what people were willing to accept back then, but they’re not willing to accept it this time,” he said. “But it works. I’s very functional and very utilitarian. It’s a throwback to the quietness in sort of a more out-there living of the Outer Banks.”

Post has been updated.

WASHINGTON WATERFRONT– A nonprofit environmental education center perched on the Pamlico River is set to undergo a major transformation.

A Partnership for the Sounds facility that focuses on estuaries and coastal rivers, plans are in motion to expand the North Carolina Estuarium’s reach through a new Seafood School.

“The Seafood School is designed to educate and entertain visitors of all ages. There is a deep heritage in eastern North Carolina of both enjoying and providing seafood, and we will work with everyone who wants to share in that,” Estuarium Director Tom Stroud explained to Coastal Review.

The Seafood School is to feature new exhibits highlighting the estuary’s role as a nursery for marine life and will have an educational kitchen where programs for the public on cooking and preparation of key species can take place.

“Our goal is to use seafood — or ‘soundfood’ — to create a full circle of appreciation for healthy estuaries,” Stroud said in a release. “For many people the closest connection they have with estuaries is eating things that come from them – oysters, blue crabs, shrimp, fish. That’s great, but there is a through-line between enjoying a fried oyster and the condition of the ecosystem it came from. The Seafood School will link the health of the estuary, the effort it takes for harvest, and the process of creating a great seafood meal in a single space.”

Currently, the 12,500 square-foot center features more than 200 exhibits that describe estuaries and coastal rivers, including aquariums with crabs and other estuarine life, art, interactive displays, artifacts from life on the Pamlico River, explorations of hurricanes and sea level rise, Pamlico River boat tours, and special programs on natural and cultural heritage, according to its website.

Stroud said in an interview that the renovation is “significant” and “will fully transform our existing classroom space, update current exhibitry, and provide incredible access to the Pamlico River as well.”

Preliminary work on the buildout will begin by June, and the Seafood School is expected to be in operation by early 2025.

The space where the Seafood School will be located is not in the main part of the exhibit hall, “so we’re hoping the renovations will have a minimal impact on our regular operation,” Stroud said, adding he believes programming will increase.

The Seafood School was inspired by the state’s efforts to restore oyster habitats because of the ecosystem benefits and the economic boost to coastal communities, and folds in other key fisheries to expand the view of why estuaries need to be sustained and protected, the announcement states.

The Estuarium evolved from the Albemarle-Pamlico Estuarine Study in the early 1990s, and since then, the goal has been to promote awareness and stewardship of the Albemarle-Pamlico, and that won’t change, Stroud said in the announcement. “But it’s time to engage new generations in new ways. We feel like the Seafood School is an approach that will elevate our message and make us uniquely identifiable among science education facilities.” 

Stroud expounded in the interview that the Seafood School will have two main learning attractions: the educational exhibits and a Cooking Classroom.

The classroom, or kitchen, will be the most noticeable new piece, Stroud said, and will allow for all types of cooking programs including steaming, baking, frying for groups of up to 16 people. The space also is going to be available as a rental venue for groups of 20 to 30 people “who want to socialize in a beautiful spot right on the Pamlico River,” he said.

“We envision having noted local chefs — and hopefully some from farther away — lead programs on how to prepare all types of seafood caught in North Carolina’s estuaries,” Stroud said.

Next to the kitchen will be exhibits that highlight the water quality needs of these species, and look at how different seafoods are harvested in state waters, especially from sustainable methods.

“The exhibit piece will look like a classic waterfront seafood shop along an estuarine shoreline in eastern N.C.,” Stroud said.

A planning grant from Nutrien, the Canadian fertilizer company in Saskatchewan, helped fund the Seafood School’s planning.

“We approached Nutrien with the basic concept in fall of 2022,” Stroud said. The funding allowed the creative consultant, Harbor Peoples, to work for about six months with chefs, watermen, building inspectors, exhibit designers, kitchen suppliers and an architect on design concepts and flesh out a definitive plan before going for bigger funding.

“We started with the idea that the exhibit and kitchen would focus specifically on oysters, but as we met with people and thought it through, we felt the story would be stronger if we expanded to include other key species from the estuary to tell a broader story of the ecosystem, which is indeed the mission of the Estuarium,” Stroud said.

The Estuarium was awarded a $250,000 grant in this year’s budget that will cover about half of the estimated cost.

In the release, Stroud expressed the center’s gratitude to Nutrien for their support on the planning grant and to Rep. Keith Kidwell, R-Beaufort, and also representing Dare, Hyde and Pamlico counties, for help with the state grant, “but we’ll need additional funding to fully achieve our goals. We look forward to sharing our vision with donors so they can have an opportunity to be part of the Estuarium’s programming evolution and show their support for keeping the Albemarle-Pamlico estuary healthy.”

Kidwell, of Chocowinity, told Coastal Review on Wednesday that he supports the Seafood School because the fishing industry is a large driver of the economy in Eastern North Carolina.

“For many years, the fishing industry has been in decline. The Seafood School will help to shine a spotlight on the importance of fishing and seafood and relates directly to North Carolina’s efforts to expand oyster fishing and fishing in general. When correctly managed, seafood is an excellent source of sustainable protein,” Kidwell said in an email. “The coastal waters in NC are a natural resource that provides some of the world’s best oysters and fin fish. Let’s do our best to manage and support the fishing industry.”

The plan is to initiate a major fundraising campaign soon, “but anyone interested in supporting us now can contact me at tmstroud@embarqmail.com and I can provide information,” Stroud said.

North Carolina Maritime Museum officials and staff are set to welcome visitors to the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum in Hatteras for the first time in two years.

Also in the coming month, officials with the museum system’s are planning to welcome back watercraft enthusiasts for its 48th annual Wooden Boat Show May 4 in Beaufort; and at the Southport museum, staff are preparing to launch a new program May 29.

The Hatteras facility has been closed since 2022 for a complete renovation. A ribbon-cutting ceremony is scheduled for 10 a.m. Monday, May 20, when the overhauled facility reopens to the public.

First opened in 2002, the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum is named after the thousands of shipwrecks off the state’s coast.

Public information officer Cyndi Brown told Coastal Review that the Hatteras museum has undergone a “major transformation, with a completely redesigned lobby and a new gallery space with state-of-the-art features and interactive elements that bring our coastal history to life.”

Exhibits cover from precolonial times to the present and offer a comprehensive journey through the region’s history.

Inside, visitors will find interactive experiences, from touch screens to holographic video displays, “providing visitors with engaging ways to delve into the region’s maritime heritage,” Brown said. She added that children, in particular, can enjoy scavenger hunts and programs designed to both educate and entertain.

There is a Monomoy-class life-saving surfboat, a first-order Fresnel lens from Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, and displays showing shipwrecks off the coast, Brown added.

Special programs and activities are scheduled for the week the museum opens, Brown said.

Following the museum opening at 10 a.m. Monday, May 20, there will be a program at 11 a.m. on the “U.S. Life Saving Service Operations along the North Carolina Coast” with Beaufort museum’s Education Curator Benjamin Wunderly. He will share the history of U.S. Life-Saving Service operations, the precursor to the Coast Guard.

“The History of the Oldest NC State Law Enforcement — 200 Years of Service (1822-2022)” is at 1 p.m. May 20 with N.C. Division of Marine Fisheries Marine Patrol Capt. Christopher Lee. Visitors can hear about the state’s longest-serving law enforcement agency, which can trace its roots back to 1822 when the North Carolina General Assembly enacted legislation to impose gear restrictions on oyster harvest.

“Brigadier General Billy Mitchell: Father of the U.S. Air Force and Hatteras Hero” is scheduled for 2 p.m. May 20 with area historian Danny Couch. Mitchell is often regarded as the father of the U.S. Air Force. Aviation experts often question why Mitchell chose to conduct his historic strategic bombing experiments at Hatteras, and the answer is simple: He liked to fish, according to the museum.

“North Carolina Whales: Diversity, Distribution and Conservation” will begin at 11 a.m. Tuesday, May 21. Beaufort museum Associate Education Curator and Bonehenge Whale Center Director Keith Rittmaster will talk about the whales most commonly spotted off the coast and show related display items.

Learn about “John Rollinson: Hero of Hatteras Island” 2 p.m. Tuesday, May 21, with Couch. Rollinson (1827-1906), was Hatteras’ first paid schoolteacher, collector of the Port of Hatteras and reluctant Civil War outlaw.

“Women in Whaling” is at 11 a.m. Friday, May 22, with Beaufort museum’s Associate Education Curator Christine Brin.

A talk on the “Lost Colony” is at 11 a.m. Saturday, May 23, with Hatteras native Scott Dawson. Hear Dawson’s take on the English who attempted to colonize the New World in 1587 and the mystery surrounding their disappearance.

North Carolina Aquariums’ Aquatic Wildlife Inhabiting Shipwrecks will take place May 20 to May 24. Staff with the Roanoke facility will be on site with this hands-on activities.

The museum will operate on a new schedule after reopening. Hours will be 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday-Friday and will be closed Saturdays and Sundays.

There is no admission but donations are appreciated and directly support museum operations, Brown said.

48th annual Wooden Boat Show in Beaufort

The Beaufort museum has set aside one Saturday a year for almost 50 years for enthusiasts to celebrate traditional wooden boatbuilding.

The 48th annual Wooden Boat Show scheduled for 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, May 4, will again bring to the coastal town dozens of wooden vessels, ranging from classic, vintage sailboats to modern power boats.

Grant Caraway, director of the wooden boat show, told Coastal Review that the annual show has been a mainstay for those in the antique and wooden boat community.

There will be many attractions this year, including dozens of classic restored boats and motors, a pirate encampment, and kid’s activities like face painting and toy boatbuilding, Caraway continued.

Plus, Caraway said, there will be public sailboat rides offered from 1-3 p.m.

In addition to the wooden boats, for the second year there will be miniature vintage outboards on display.

“We’ll have outboards on both sides of the street,” Caraway said in a statement. “These miniature outboard motors are really cool. While most people think they’re toys, they were actually used by manufacturers as a marketing tool.”

Brown said Monday morning that though online registration closes Tuesday, boats can register up until the day of the show by calling 252-504-7758. “We will always make room for more boats,” she said. “Right now we have 35 registered.”

Registration for a first vessel is $30 and includes an event T-shirt. Additional boats are $5 each. Register on the website by April 30 or by phone at 252-504-7758 until the day before the show.

Also on the grounds will be knot-tying demonstrations, a book sale, vendors, maritime art, boating skills virtual trainer, sailboat races and more, all offered at no charge.

While most activities are at the museum, the in-water boat show will be a few blocks away at the Beaufort Docks.

“We award 16 different categories with handmade wooden awards made here at the Maritime Museum,” Caraway said for the judge’s selections.

Attendees will be able to choose their favorite by voting for the People’s Choice winner and for the model expo.

An opening reception with refreshments and entertainment is set for 5-7 p.m. Friday, May 3, at the museum’s Harvey W. Smith Watercraft Center across the street. There is no charge to attend. The kickoff is being held at the same time as the museum’s Spring First Friday, which celebrates featured artists at the museum’s Port of Call Museum Store.

‘Anchors Aweigh’ in Southport

The North Carolina Maritime Museum at Southport is launching its new program,
“Anchors Aweigh,” on May 29.

The drop-in style program offered from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. each day its scheduled features hands-on activities that focus on a specific part of Lower Cape Fear and North Carolina history.

The debut activity is “Anchors Aweigh: Got the Blues?” an indigo-dying program from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.

Several “Anchors Aweigh” events are scheduled throughout the summer, as well.

The program June 12 will be on map reading and orienteering, on June 26, declaring independence, July 10 “Wash it up! Laundry in the Age of Sail,” July 10, flags in history July 24, and cyphers and codes Aug. 14.

More Maritime Museum events

Beaufort museum

The Cape Lookout Lighthouse — 11 a.m. May 2 will focus on the history of the Carteret County landmark. The presentation will cover both the destroyed 1812 tower, and the still-standing 1859 tower, as well as some lesser-known facts about the “Diamond” tower. No charge to attend the Maritime Heritage Series program.

Kids’ Cove — 9-11 a.m. May 8 and again 11 a.m.-1 p.m. May 12. This free-play program is designed for children up to 5 years and their caregivers. There is a different maritime-themed craft and wiggle activity each month. This is screen-free program begins an hour before the museum opens to the public. To register, call 252-504-7758 or visit the website.

Kayak the Salt Marsh — 9 a.m.-noon May 9. A member of the education team will give a basic kayak instruction and safety lessons on shore then lead a 1.5-mile paddle through the salt marsh. The program is recommended for ages 12 and up, though anyone under 18 must be accompanied by an adult. Participants must know how to swim; some kayak experience is recommended. Cost is $35 or $30 if you bring your own kayak. Register online by noon May 8 at 252-504-7758 or on the website.

Museum’s Most Wanted: Conservation Basics-Identifying and Dealing with Museum Pests — 11 a.m. May 9. Museum conservator Michelle Crepeau will identify common museum pests, their impact on collections, and both historical and modern methods of mitigation and prevention. The program offered at no charge is part of the Maritime Heritage Series.

Exploring Coastal Habitats on the Rachel Carson Reserve — 9 a.m.-noon May 15. The guided hike will take visitors through the different habitats and the sandy, muddy, and wet terrain found on Town Marsh and Bird Shoal in the Beaufort area. The program is recommended for ages 12 and up, but all participants under 18 must be accompanied by an adult. Cost is $25. Register online or by calling 252-504-7758 by noon May 14.

Behind the scenes at the Whale Center — 10 a.m. May 17. The 40-minute, behind-the-scenes look shows how marine mammal skeletons are prepared for educational display and the mammals found in area waters. The Bonehenge Whale Center operates as a partnership between the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources and the Carolina Cay Maritime Foundation. Register online or by calling 252-504-7758 by noon May 16.

Sea Turtles in North Carolina — 11 a.m. May 23. Program for World Turtle Day will focus on different species of sea turtles and the trials they face before they even emerge from their sandy nest. No charge for the program through the Maritime Heritage Series.

Southport museum

Skippers Crew: Mullet Over — 10 a.m.- 3p.m. May 4. Designed for all ages, but specifically geared toward younger patrons, this activity features hands-on activities and crafts focusing on combining arts and history. Lights will be dimmed and interactives muted during the first two hours to provide a calmer environment for those with sensory sensitivities. No charge to participate.

Deep Dive into History — drop-in series 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturday, May 18. Madline Spencer of the state’s Underwater Archaeology Branch based at Fort Fisher State Historic Site will explain the tools of the trade of an archaeologist, how they preserve what they find, and how they help us understand the past during the program, “Digging for the Past.” Designed for all ages, the series gives visitors a deeper understanding of our shared past through costumed interpreters and artifacts. Being offered at no charge, registration is not required.

Third Tuesday: “Silent Sentinels” — noon May 21 with the North Carolina Military History Society. Part of the museum’s Third Tuesday lecture series held at the Southport Community Building, 223 E. Bay St. Lectures are geared for ages 16 years and older. No charge to attend, but registration is requested because seating is limited. Call -910-477-5151 or visit the website.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Hannah Bunn West that the children’s book she helped author on the history of Jockey’s Ridge was released while protections for the National Natural Landmark are at risk on the state level.

That threat is similar to what prompted the largest sand dune system on the East Coast to be saved and ostensibly permanently protected 50 years ago.

On Aug. 15, 1973, siblings Ann-Cabell, Inglis and Gibbs Baum of Kill Devil Hills saw bulldozers at Jockey’s Ridge and ran home to tell their mother, Carolista Baum. In protest, their mother stood in front of that bulldozer, forcing the operator intent on removing sand to abandon his post.

Carolista Baum rallied the community to save the dunes, and she co-founded the group People to Preserve Jockey’s Ridge. The group raised money, held petition drives and lobbied state and local officials. The effort paid off. In 1975, Jockey’s Ridge was designated as a North Carolina state park.

Ann-Cabell Baum spent her youth in Nags Head across from Jockey’s Ridge. She is now vice chairwoman of the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge State Park.

“We were 6, 5 and 3½ the summer of 1973 when we were playing and saw the bulldozer at the back side of the dune,” Ann-Cabell Baum said.

“Jockey’s Ridge means so much to our family, it’s where we as children played every summer day and ran up and rolled down, requiring a swim in the ocean to get some of the sand off before our nightly baths,” she said. “As a kid we thought all kids had a sand dune, and we shared ours with all the visitors to the beach. We always would talk to other kids that we’d meet at the ridge and share with them the best place to jump and catch the most air as well as not leaning too far forward when you ran down, otherwise you might faceplant.”

North Carolina Office of Archives and History Historical Research and Publications Supervisor Ansley Herring Wegner, who came into the role in October last year, thought this was an important part of North Carolina history and decided early on in her new position to pursue a book on the Baums and Jockey’s Ridge.

Wegner has been with the archives office since 1994. She was administrator of the Highway Historical Marker Program since 2014, before taking on the supervisor role last fall.

The conversation to make the story a children’s book was fueled by the attention social media posts would garner when Wegner would share the story of Carolista Baum on the anniversary of the day she stood in front of that bulldozer at Jockey’s Ridge, and began in earnest during the process to establish a historical marker for Carolista Baum, which was installed in July 2023 in Nags Head.

“I thought, I would love to do a children’s book about this because it’s a story for children. It’s a story about children getting things done in their community with their mom’s help,” she said.

Wegner said the archives office has always published historical books, and has recently launched a series for young readers. Her hope is that these children’s books expand their audience and teaches more people about North Carolina history.

Wegner said that, within a week of becoming supervisor, she met with Ann-Cabell, who resides in Raleigh as well, to talk about getting the book written.

“It was my first round with a children’s book, and I just felt like it would be a good one to do,” Wegner said. “It’s an important story. It’s environmental history. It’s children using their voices and getting things done.” 

Baum found the watercolors of Outer Banks artist Larry McCarter that were used for the book. Book designer Sheila Barrett Carroll suggested West write the story because of the book “Remarkable Women of the Outer Banks” that West had published in 2022.

West agreed.

West grew up on the Outer Banks, attended Manteo High School and graduated from University of North Carolina Wilmington. She taught second, third and fourth grades before becoming a freelance writer, publishing in 2022 her book, “Remarkable Women of the Outer Banks,” which features a chapter on the late Carolista Baum, who died in 1991.

West told Coastal Review earlier this week that she met with Ann-Cabell Baum to hear her perspective of that day her mother stood in front of the bulldozer for the chapter on Carolista Baum West included in her book. West and Baum then collaborated on the children’s book.

West explained that in addition to being asked to adapt that chapter for an upper elementary-age reader, she has developed lesson plans and classroom activities to accompany the book for teachers to use as part of the North Carolina curriculum.

“Save Our Sand Dunes” is accessible for everyone from lower elementary, through upper-middle high school, and adults would even enjoy it, West said, and there’s what she called a “really neat mix of visuals” including illustrations, watercolors, photographs, graphics, the bumper stickers they sold to purchase the sand dunes that were privately owned at the time, and at the end, a page for the reader’s own Jockey’s Ridge scrapbook.

West said she wanted to focus on the children’s initiative to save the dune, rather than the legislative work that is heavily featured in her book.

“I wanted the main takeaway of this story to be how it was the three Baum children that really got the ball rolling, and even if you’re young or small, that your voice matters, especially when it comes to protecting the environment or your community or the people around you,” West said, adding she really wanted to drive the point home that kids made such a big difference in this story.

In thinking about what would really connect with young readers, she developed the narrative of the day the children went up on the dune and saw the bulldozer and then witnessed their mother stand in front of the heavy equipment.

Now herself the mother of two, ages 4 and 7, West said many of the parents in her circle have been receptive of the book.

“It’s so timely, such coincidental timing to that we have a book coming out called ‘Save Our Sand Dunes’ and there’s issues happening right now with Jockey’s Ridge.”

She’s referring to the protections for Jockey’s Ridge under the Coastal Area Management Act that are in jeopardy because of a dispute between the Coastal Resources Commission that is legislatively empowered to write the rules, in this case protections for Jockey’s Ridge as a designated Area of Environmental Concern, and the Rules Review Commission, a panel empowered to review and either approve or reject rules.

In October, the rules commission axed 30 longstanding Coastal Resources Commission-enacted rules from the state administrative code, including the AEC for Jockey’s Ridge. Since then, there has been a back and forth between the two commissions over 16 temporary rules the CRC subsequently approved to reinstate what it said were the most critical rules that had been rejected.

The Rules Review Commission then rejected those rules earlier this month over language used, particularly the word “unique,” in describing the sand dune system. The CRC met Thursday to discuss the rejection and heard from several residents fighting again for the dune’s protection, including West and Baum.

The slogan for the campaign to save Jockey’s Ridge in the 1970s was “Jockey’s Ridge for all the People,” West said. “The message is that this is a space for everyone to enjoy, rather than have private developers profit off of it. It’s a space for all the people to enjoy.”

West continued that she thinks that’s the main worry right now with Jockey’s Ridge.

“People’s fear is that it’s going to pave the way for people to be able to develop not necessarily on (the park) because it is a state park but around the area of Jockey’s Ridge. We’ve just seen so incredibly much development on the Outer Banks recently, even in the in the last 10 years, I would say, and while people are becoming really disheartened by a lot of it,” she said.

West said she hopes to use the book to spread awareness of how the dunes were originally saved, so it can serve as a reminder to those who know the story of Jockey’s Ridge, or as a way to educate new residents.

Ann-Cabell Baum recalled writing a book about Jockey’s Ridge in the second grade, “but not quite as great as ‘Save Our Sand Dunes.’ I even made the cover and sewed the pages into the book as part of a class project.”

However, Ann-Cabell Baum continued, “my book wasn’t as beautifully illustrated nor were my pictures as gorgeous as those painted by Larry McCarter. Hannah did a wonderful job of job of taking the summer of 1973 and sharing all the events that unfolded through 1975. We all hope that as kids and adults alike read this book, they’ll become members of the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge and help us build the next generation of kids and adults to make sure Jockey’s Ridge is here for years to come.”

The book really highlights how special a place Jockey’s Ridge is to her family and to everyone in Dare County, and everyone that comes to visit,” Ann-Cabell Baum said.

Ann-Cabell Baum said that with all the concern now that sand may be removed from the dunes without AEC protections, “It’s super important now that everyone realizes protection of natural resources goes beyond just a designation, it’s truly a responsibility to our children and the generations to come that we preserve and protect this super special place.

“It’s all of ours to enjoy, and it’s also all of ours make sure we save it, time and time again, when it’s in jeopardy. And, when it’s in jeopardy like now, with the removal of the AEC, area of environmental concern, we have to raise a fuss, it’s our obligation to make sure we take care of Jockey’s Ridge State Park.”

Buy the book

“Save Our Sand Dunes” by By Hannah Bunn West with Ann-Cabell Baum and illustrated by Larry McCarter and Anne Marshall Runyon can be purchased through UNC Press, which is distributing the book for N.C. Office of Archives and History.

This post has been updated.

While the Outer Banks with its famed shipwrecks, pristine sand and historic sites, are, in many ways, the prototypical beaches of North Carolina, not all beaches were settled in the same way as those in Currituck, Dare and Carteret counties.

Sunset Beach, which is on the South Carolina border, is one of those. Though it’s located in a historic region of North Carolina, the Brunswick County town’s history as a tourist attraction is recent.

The town has gone from an ignored stretch of sand to a destination for retirees and weekend visitors alike in the last 70 years.

Ann Bokelman, moved to the town in 2007 from Richmond, Virginia. She said they looked at several other beaches when considering where to buy a lot, but “when we found Sunset Beach, we never looked back.”

Bokelman said Sunset Beach is a “sweet spot” almost perfectly in between Myrtle Beach and Wilmington. Its location has kept out the long stretches of apartment complexes and other indications of a bedroom community. 

Sunset Beach is one of the Brunswick County beaches, a set of barrier islands that stretch from Bald Head Island to the east and the South Carolina border to the west.

West of Oak Island, these islands were mostly uninhabited before the 20th century. Unlike some of the Outer Banks, these islands were durable. Many of them appear, albeit unnamed, as early as the 1737 Moseley’s map. The island that became Sunset Beach was originally known as Bald Beach.

Despite their status as coastal islands with long beaches, Bald Beach and its neighbors were practically ignored by North Carolina residents. Located on the other side of large swamps, Brunswick County settlers instead focused on the major rivers and creeks of the county.

They started large cotton plantations and even grew rice in isolated areas. This focus on cash crops dominated the attention of Brunswick County settlers much more than sand-covered barrier islands.

The closest sizable town until the 1880s was Smithville, now Southport, more than 30 miles to the east, although unincorporated Shallotte, Supply and Calabash were somewhat closer.

Bald Beach was virtually ignored throughout the 19th century.

It was bypassed during the Civil War as Federal troops occupied the Sea Islands of South Carolina, and took Fort Caswell on nearby Oak Island.

One exception was in 1864, when the blockade runner Vestaran aground off Bald Beach on its way back to Wilmington. But in general, the region that is now Sunset Beach remained swampland and a plot of sand.

In his 1952 book, “Graveyard of the Atlantic: Shipwrecks of the North Carolina Coast,” historian David Stick referred to the area by the name of a nearby inlet  — Tubbs Inlet — not the beach.

As late as 1958, “A New Geography of North Carolina” lumped Bald Beach together with neighboring Bird Island as the last two “undeveloped” barrier islands of North Carolina before reaching the southern border.

Settlement of the area did not begin in earnest until years after the establishment of the Intracoastal Waterway in the 1930s. This extensive passage stretches from Massachusetts to Texas and was mostly constructed by expanding and joining existent bodies of water. 

The construction of the waterway brought more attention to the beach areas of the Atlantic coast and the Gulf. While the waterway provided easy water access, the state of North Carolina provided a close highway connection with the completion of U.S. Highway 17 in the 1920s.

More car and boat traffic made travel to Brunswick County beaches feasible. One by one, the state and local developers pushed highways through Brunswick County to bridges that would make the islands habitable.

The private developer who made Sunset Beach possible was Mannon C. Gore. Gore, a local farmer and World War II veteran, purchased the island in 1955 for $55,000 and built a drawbridge in 1958 connecting the island and mainland.

He then built a pier, began to sell off lots, and renamed the area Sunset Beach in 1958. In 1963, the town was incorporated with a section on both the mainland and the barrier island.

Ever since its establishment, Sunset Beach has exploded in popularity as a travel destination. It has benefitted from the growth of the Myrtle Beach area to its south and the continued migration of retirees to the Sun Belt from the northeast.

The town’s population has increased nearly tenfold in the past 30 years. Its pristine views and somewhat light development have given the beach a national reputation. In 2017, it was voted one of the 21 best beaches in the world by National Geographic.

Throughout this process, locals like have remained surprisingly insulated from the concerns of other beachgoers. But change is coming, albeit slowly.

Bokelman, a founder of the Old Bridge Preservation Society, believes that the completion of the new bridge to Sunset Beach in 2010 was a demarcating line. Cars no longer had to wait 15 minutes or longer for the drawbridge to cross the waterway.

The new bridge was a sign that Sunset Beach was open to development like never before. If Sunset Beach is to grow substantially, however, that change will not happen overnight. Bokelman said that there are still undeveloped lots on the island and large stretches of protected wetlands.

Despite concerns with rapid growth, Sunset Beach remains a popular outpost.

The town has a museum located in the former bridge tender’s house, as well as Ingram Planetarium.

Sunset Beach has new roundabouts and housing developments that anticipate a greater influx of visitors and new residents alike. Myrtle Beach and Wilmington will likely grow to reach Sunset Beach’s boundaries if they continue on their present trajectories.

Until then, Sunset Beach is still a unique coastal town, one that is large enough to have amenities without high-rise development or cramped houses on the sand.

Living on the Outer Banks “requires you to be very much in touch with weather and Mother Nature,” says commercial fisherman Vince O’Neal.

The lifelong Ocracoke resident and owner of the Pony Island Restaurant told Coastal Review recently that his family has been on the barrier island, which is only accessible by boat or plane, for generations.

Many of the first settlers on the coast were watermen and what they did that day “depended on the weather and the hand they were dealt.” The velocity and the direction of the wind and tides determined if you were going on the water or if you were going to spend the day working on nets, boats, gear, or your hunting rig of decoys.

“Waterfowling was a big part of life on the Outer Banks as a way of income and for food on the table,” O’Neal said, as much as hand carving was in a waterfowler’s life.

“Growing up on Ocracoke Island as a kid, you were exposed to the natives making decoys all around the island,” O’Neal said, with some working in their backyard sheds and others carving or whittling while hanging out at the local stores or other gathering places.

“By the time that I came along,” O’Neal added, many of the old-time carvers were making decoys for the tourist trade versus using them as working decoys.

To keep the village’s decoy carving traditions alive, he and a group of other carvers formed the Ocracoke Island Decoy Carvers Guild in January 2018 with the goal to “preserve, promote and carry on” the village’s waterfowl carving heritage, according to its Facebook.

That year, the guild hosted its first Waterfowl Festival and are carrying on that success. The organization is readying for its sixth festival, which has been expanded to two days this year, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday, April 20, and 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Sunday, April 21, in the Ocracoke School gym.

There is no charge to attend the festival that will feature dozens of booths featuring carvers, collectors, exhibitors and demonstrations from North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland and Delaware.

New this year will be a fish fry hosted by Ocracoke Seafood Co. starting at 11 a.m. Saturday, April 20, and a bake sale with baked goodies and treats, including Ocracoke fig cake. Saturday events include a decoy head carving competition at 1 p.m. and a silent auction that ends at 3 p.m.

O’Neal, who is this year’s featured carver for the festival, explained that the methods of carving have been passed down through the generations and continue today.

“It is important that crafts such as this be preserved and taught to the younger islanders as it is part of their heritage, history and livelihoods,” he said.

Guild President John Simpson, who also grew up on the island, told Coastal Review that the festival is for all ages. Last year they had around 800 visitors attend.

As of Monday, Simpson said there were 27 different carvers, vendors and other artisans signed up to have a booth at the festival. Simpson is asking anyone who wants to be a vendor to let him know by April 14 for logistical purposes. Vendors can secure a table at $75 for both days.

He mentioned that in addition to the bake sale, there will be merchandise like T-shirts and sweatshirts, and a raffle on Saturday.

First place for the raffle is the decoy featured on the poster and shirts. O’Neal created that decoy in his role as the festival’s featured carver.

Recent organization, old tradition

Simpson said that the movement behind establishing a guild began several years ago. The carving tradition can be found generations deep in Outer Banks communities and especially in Ocracoke.

“There’s a lot of decoy makers,” Simpson explained, adding that one of his distant family members, Gary Bragg, who was alive 1881 to 1954, was a well-known carver on the island who “got a little bit of notoriety.”

Simpson said that he and some of his former classmates had been talking for a while about holding a festival like the Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild’s festival held the first weekend of December on Harkers Island, a Down East Carteret County community.

So, Simpson, Vince O’Neal, his brother Dave O’Neal, and Scotty Robinson met in a friend’s living room in December 2017 and formed the Ocracoke Island Decoy Carvers Guild. “The first meeting we ever had was in January of 2018,” and the group continues to meet the first Thursday of the month.

Simpson said they started the guild to promote Ocracoke’s heritage and the tradition of decoy carving as art.

“We all enjoy it, all of us that are on board,” Simpson said. “We all love it. We’re trying to promote it, and especially get the younger folks involved because it is a dying art. As much as I hate to say it, it is a dying art.”

“We made it simple. Anybody could join,” Simpson said of the guild.

When the group was establishing guidelines, they also decided to have a festival. “We scrambled around and did our first festival that year, 2018, on the third weekend in April,” Simpson said, and the group has tried to keep it that same weekend.

In April 2018 and 2019, the festival was at the school, and in 2020, they had to cancel the festival because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Because Hurricane Dorian in late 2019 destroyed the school, the festival was held at Berkley Barn outdoor pavilion in 2021, 2022 and 2023.

Simpson said the festival is returning to the school now that it has reopened because the event is for the students and the school. The guild offers scholarships to graduating students from Ocracoke School.

Simpson urged those who want to attend to go ahead and line up their lodging, which fills up quickly, and make sure to reserve a spot on the North Carolina Department of Transportation ferry to Ocracoke from either Cedar Island or Swan Quarter.

With parking being limited at Ocracoke School, there will be a shuttle to transport visitors from the National Park Service parking lot by the ferry terminal to the school during show hours.

Getting to what remains of Buffalo City on the Dare County mainland isn’t easy.

Walking to the site where there’s not much left but is surprisingly intact, requires hip boots at least, though waders are a better choice, and being in reasonable physical condition since it’s a little bit more than a mile hike — or slosh — through what is truly trackless swamp.

It’s a good idea to go with someone who knows where they’re going, too, and, for good measure, go on a cool or cold day. Water moccasins are prolific in the swamp and there’s a reason the area is called Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge.

Related: As timber declined, Buffalo City loggers made ’shine

Buffalo City gained notoriety for its moonshine production during Prohibition, but there’s more to the now-abandoned town’s story than just logging and liquor. The remnants of two buildings where the mill town once stood are extant evidence of a wildly expensive insurance company fraud case during the 1910s.

Bill Barber of Columbia, in Tyrrell County, is the guide, leading this reporter to what remains of Buffalo City. He’s a retired forester with 40 years of experience, most of his career with Weyerhaeuser.

“I had several hundred thousand acres of land that was under my management,” he said, referring to his time with Weyerhaeuser. “I thoroughly enjoyed my career with them.”

No longer working in forestry, he has since had a chance to follow up on stories he had been told for years. Barber told Coastal Review that his mother had family who lived in East Lake and Buffalo City.

“There’s a lot of legends and a lot of lore about what went on at Buffalo City,” he said. “When I retired, I thought I just need to check into this, to really figure out what the story is. So, I started doing research on it.”

With about seven years’ worth of research behind him, Barber has published three books on the history of the lumber industry in northeastern North Carolina.

“Timber, Land & Railroads: A History of the John L. Roper Lumber Company” is an account of the timber boom following the Civil War; “Tyrrell Timber: A History of the Branning Manufacturing Company and Richmond Cedar Works” chronicles timbering operation in Tyrrell County; and “Buffalo City and the Blount Patent: A History of Logging the Dare Mainland” is history of land use by entrepreneurs and speculators on mainland Dare County.

With Barber leading, we come out of the swamp onto what passes for high ground.

There are the remnants of a substantial concrete building. A series of blocks rest on top of a solid concrete base with metal bolts still anchored to the concrete.

About 50 yards past that is what remains of a brick building. Vines grow up its sides and trees have taken root in what was once the floor.

The brick building was at one time a pulp mill and the concrete building was once a coal-fired generator that powered the mill. The only visible remnants of Buffalo City, they appear incongruous in the setting.

What was once a thriving, if small, lumbering town has vanished.

A map drawn from memory by one-time resident Jesse Basnight depicts about 35 homes, a post office, country store and hotel. The 1910 census records 548 residents in East Lake Township. It is possible some workers were missed if they were in a lumbering camp, but it’s doubtful if there were ever more than 600 people living there.

Every building in the town was wooden and as the town died, Barber said, people took the wood with them. What wasn’t taken, has been swallowed by the swamp. Except for the generating plant and pulp mill, there is almost no evidence it ever existed.

It’s doubtful if Buffalo City would have survived no matter what. It was becoming harder to find good quality trees to harvest immediately after the first World War, then the country went into a recession.

The recession “was very severe and lasted a long time for the lumber industry … over 18 months, and it put a lot of people out of business,” Barber told Coastal Review. “Then by 1920, there was a lot of lumber coming in from the Pacific Northwest … because of the improvements in the railroad.”

By June 1920, the proceeds of the Dare Lumber Co., the company that owned the timber rights to the land, were being sold off. Metropolitan Life Insurance Co. bought everything for $900,000.

The reason an insurance company paid the equivalent of $14.7 million in modern dollars for 167,000 acres of swamp is the final, unseemly chapter in the story of what really happened to Buffalo City.

In 1912 there were two lumbering companies operating on the Dare County mainland: East Lake Lumber and Dare Lumber Co. With quality timber getting harder to find, both were ready to get out of the business and agreed to a joint sale of the companies to single buyer.

What would become one of the largest life insurance company scams in U.S. history began with George Montgomery of Jacksonville, Florida, who offered to purchase the companies on what was known as an operating contract. Under the proposed deal, Montgomery would manage the companies and, over time, purchase them using the proceeds.

The offer was rejected.

Undaunted, Montgomery offered a New York City apartment building as collateral and some cash — also rejected.

He then moved to New York City and partnered with New York attorney Clarence Birdseye in a scheme that would shake the insurance industry.

Montgomery had been buying shares of Dare Lumber and “On March 26, 1917, George Montgomery bought enough shares of Dare Lumber Company to gain control of the company,” Barber wrote in “Buffalo City and the Blount Patent.”

Now in control of the company, Montgomery and Birdseye immediately turned to also buy East Lake Lumber Co. The combined holdings of the two lumber companies were more than 167,000 acres and covered all of mainland Dare County.

The price for the two companies was $1.1 million. Then on March 28, 1917, Montgomery and Birdseye issued 600 $1,000 bonds — six times the value of what had been paid for Dare Lumber.

March 28, 1917, was an active day for the partners. That was the day they convinced the board of directors of the Pittsburgh Life Insurance and Trust Co. to sell them the company, offering them a price of $80 per share, $15 to $25 more than the going rate.

The agreement was that the board would receive $10 per share upon acceptance of the offer with the balance to be paid later.

The board agreed to the terms and the partners went to a friendly bank, Commercial Trust of New York, where they were given a $120,000 collateral-free loan. The money was deposited in a Pittsburgh bank, the board was paid off, and a new board was installed composed of Montgomery and Birdseye cronies.

What followed was the quick theft of the $24 million, or around $582 million today, in Pittsburgh Life assets with the proceeds deposited with Commercial Trust. There was $379,000 in cash reserves that went to the Commercial Trust account. The Pittsburgh Life board sold the Washington Life Building that the company owned in New York City for almost $4 million. Although Dare Lumber Co. had been purchased for only $1.1 million earlier in the year, the Pittsburgh Life board accepted a $3 million mortgage on the property.

It was during this time the generating site and pulp mill were built at Buffalo City. Barber noted when looking at the ruins that the partners needed to show something tangible, that there was at least some investment in their properties.

“The problem was keeping both Dare Lumber and Pittsburgh Life solvent for long enough to avoid scrutiny of financial regulators,” Barber wrote in his book.

But the stripping of Pittsburgh Life’s assets was so rapacious and swift that in less than two months the company was insolvent and forced to declare bankruptcy.

Financial regulators reacted quickly with investigations into Birdseye and Montgomery making national news. Referencing the reports, New York City District Attorney Edward Swann planned to investigate what happened, according to the May 3, 1917, New York Tribune story with the headline, “Swann Probes Purchase of Insurance Company.”

The reporting included a statement from Jesse Phillips, superintendent of the New York Insurance Department, describing what his department had found.

“No funds were used for the purchase of the capital stock of the company or for the acquisition of the lumber company except what was the assets of the lumber company,” Phillips told the paper.

It took almost two years for the case to go to trial, but according to a Nov. 22, 1919, New York Times article, the Nov. 21 jury reached guilty verdicts.

“Clarence F. Birdseye, Kellogg Birdseye (Clarence Birdseye’s son) and George F. Montgomery, all of New York, who were placed on trial in criminal court before Judge Ambrose B. Reid on Nov. 10, charged with conspiring to defraud the stockholders and policy holders of the Pittsburgh Life and Trust, and with wrecking that organization, were found guilty as indicted today,” the Times reported.

Metropolitan Life’s purchase of the land and everything else Birdseye and Montgomery had owned, including a sawmill in Elizabeth City, may have been as much self-preservation as it was investment strategy. Pittsburgh Life at that time was one of the largest life insurance companies in the nation.

“MetLife bailed them out, just to keep the life insurance business alive,” Barber said.

For Buffalo City, the end was slow in coming but inevitable. Metropolitan Life sold Dare Lumber Co. to the Dare Corp. of Dover, Delaware, in January 1940. Dare Corp. had hoped to use lumbering as a way to finance developing farmland in the vast holding.

Much of mainland Dare is swamp and unsuitable for farming, and that disadvantage was compounded by a nonexistent transportation network. There were no roads connecting mainland Dare with the outside world in 1940.

“The lack of roads could only be remedied with a massive amount of capital investment dedicated to developing a basic infrastructure,” Barber wrote.

In May of 1954 the Coastland Times reported the final curtain for Buffalo City under the headline “Cedar Mill at Buffalo City Finishing Work.”

“The Buffalo Cedar Mill, which has been operating from Buffalo City since 1949, has about two weeks of work left before their operations will be completed,” the newspaper reported. “At that time, it is reported by C. C. Duvall, the company will move their operations to Lake Drummond in the Dismal Swamp … This takes away from Buffalo City the last of the big milling businesses.”

There was little doubt that North Carolina would vote to support the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution prohibiting “the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors.”

The state had been dry since 1908. The first Southern state to go dry.

It was the Volstead Act passed into law in 1919 that allowed enforcement of the amendment. The law was challenged in the courts, and on Jan. 5, 1920, when the Supreme Court handed down its ruling upholding the act, prohibitionists were overjoyed.

“Supreme Court’s Action Hailed as a Sweeping Victory,” exclaimed the headline in the Jan. 6 Wilmington Morning Star, with a subhead telling readers, “Dry Forces Jubilant at Upholding of Volstead Prohibition Enforcement Act.”

If the dry forces of the state saw Prohibition as the dawn of a new and healthier society for farmers and lumber workers in northeastern North Carolina, who often lived in remote and barely accessibly areas, Prohibition offered something entirely different.

It was for them, a government-sponsored golden parachute. The once seemingly inexhaustible supply of lumber had, in fact, been exhausted. In 1920, farm income was roughly equivalent to household incomes nationwide, but over the next decade and into the 1930s, as commodity prices fell and foreign competition became more robust, farm income lagged even further behind the rest of the country.

It’s unclear how much moonshine liquor was being distilled in northeastern North Carolina before the Volstead Act. Following a 1919 raid in Currituck County, W.O. Saunders, publisher of the Elizabeth City Independent wrote, “Prior to the inauguration of Bone-Dry prohibition the illicit manufacture of liquor in the Elizabeth City territory was unknown. The news in this paper last week telling of the capture of stills in Camden and Currituck counties came as a shock to the thousands who had a vague idea that ‘moonshining’ belonged to the mountain fastnesses of western North Carolina.”

The rare discovery of a still in these parts seems to have become more regular after the Volstead Act took effect, although it was not solely the Volstead Act that created the change.

Chris Barber, whose book “When Ghosts Made Moonshine: Prohibition in the Albemarle,” examines Prohibition in northeastern North Carolina, recently told Coastal Review about the factors involved and how the illegal practice may have started here.

“This was just making a little bit of money to feed their families originally,” she said. “There was a small depression following World War I when soldiers came back. So people needed to make money,” and Buffalo City, a logging town near East Lake in Dare County long since lost to the forest, “that was a remote location.”

Barber’s title was drawn from a 1931 New York Herald Tribune article, “A Ghost That Makes Booze,” by Ben Dixon MacNeill. The story was picked up by a number of papers including the Independent where the story ran with the headline, “Buffalo City Written up in N.Y. Newspaper.”

“The ghost makes liquor,” MacNeill writes. “Makes liquor with a prodigality and completeness that is without parallel anywhere else in this country, and liquor of an exceedingly high and desirable quality.”

By 1931, the East Lake area had become a thriving center of liquor production — mostly rye whiskey, but corn whiskey, as well.

Back in 1920, production had been small and distribution limited, although that would soon change. The federal government was unprepared to enforce the new law.

“The government provided funds for only 1,500 agents at first to enforce Prohibition across the country. They were issued guns and given access to vehicles, but many had little or no training,” the Mob Museum in Las Vegas notes on its Prohibition webpage.

Although there would eventually be more agents assigned to the area, when Robert Tuttle, the first federal Prohibition agent, arrived in Elizabeth City in February 1920, he was alone covering all of northeastern North Carolina. 

Even after more agents arrived, it remained clear how ill-prepared the government was.

“The government paid them poorly,” Barber said, referring to the work that needed to be done. Cars were not provided.

In order to raid a suspected site in Camden County that borders Elizabeth City, agents had to hire jitney drivers, the equivalent a taxi. When the they arrived at the location, “It was obvious that the people they were going to raid knew it,” Barber said.

What was happening in counties close by Elizabeth City and Pasquotank County was dwarfed by what was happening on the Dare County mainland.

In the 1920s, there were no roads in the East Lake District. The main connection with the outside world was a dock at Buffalo City on Milltail Creek. The area was a virtually impenetrable swamp and sparsely populated. The people who lived there were self-sufficient and tightknit, and they had one other advantage — a well-established connection to Elizabeth City, at that time a transportation hub.

In her 2019 Eastern Carolina University master’s thesis in marine archeology, Reconstructing Buffalo City (1887-1986), Sara Mackenzie Parkin, points to the remoteness of the location and a well-established transportation network as key to an explosive growth in bootleg whiskey production.

“The strategic advantage of their remote location coupled with the proximity of well-traveled trade routes lent itself well to the illegal manufacturing and sale of Buffalo City’s newest trade good,” she wrote.

Federal Prohibition agents were aware of East Lake and in June 1922, with the help of the Coast Guard, they made their first raid.

“By nine o’clock Saturday morning they captured two sixty-gallon corn whiskey plants and destroyed nine hundred gallons of mash at East Lake. They arrested no one,” Barber wrote in her book.

Less than a year later, they agents returned. Again they arrested no one, but Barber writes, “They discovered buildings and equipment. This was more than a still; it was a large, well-organized operation.”

The agents found a still capable, they estimated, of producing 100 gallons of whiskey a day and 7,500 gallons of beer in containers ready to be shipped.

A pattern was emerging. As more federal agents arrived in Elizabeth City working with county sheriffs, they were often able to surprise bootleggers at their stills in areas accessible by car.

“Local Sheriff Found Still Running,” announced the headline in the Sept. 22, 1922, edition of the Independent. The article goes on to report the arrest of “Bruce Burgess, Henry Hughes and a 19-year-old boy named Jones.”

But at East Lake, although the agents could often seize equipment, the men who possessed the knowledge and expertise required to make whiskey were never there.

“Part of the story is the underground network and spies and informants. So agents could rarely go to East Lake and surprise anybody. It was just not possible because (East Lake residents) already knew,” Barber said.

The spies were not always successful, though. To get to East Lake, federal agents had to rely on the Coast Guard for water transportation. The AB-21, the 65-foot-long boat the Coast Guard used to cross Albemarle Sound from Elizabeth City, had a top speed of 6.5 knots, or about 7.5 mph. Almost any motorboat would be able to get to East Lake before it did.

But in August 1927 the AB-21 left after dark and anchored off Durant Island off the north end of East Lake, waiting for daylight. The strategy paid off.

“Sudden Federal Raid at East Lake Brings in Men and Liquor” according to the Aug. 27, 1927, Elizabeth City Daily Advance headline.

In the two-day raid, agents were able to arrest three men and seize “distilling equipment and supplies valued at $33,000 to $36,000.” That would be $585,000 to $638,000 in today’s dollars.

It was apparent that what was happening on mainland Dare County was distinct from anything happening in other areas of northeastern North Carolina.

“Eastlake (and) Buffalo City, liquor became more of an industrial style production. They had bunkhouses left over from timber days,” Barber said. And sometimes, “they had generators and they ran stills around the clock.”

To sustain production on that level, there had to be a way to get the product to market and the product had to be good enough to create demand. East Lake whiskey, apparently, checked both boxes. From Elizabeth City north up the East Coast to New York City, East Lake whiskey was renowned.

“Its smoothness and quality allegedly drove up demand for the product,” Parkin wrote.

This distribution network’s success relied on the active collusion of law enforcement officials here and elsewhere.

The city manager of Norfolk, Virginia, I. Walk Truxton, had learned that honest city officials were seemingly being intimidated by dishonest police and bootleggers and in 1926 he took his suspicions to Prohibition Officer Leighton Blood.

Blood came up with the idea of opening a speakeasy in Norfolk, buying illegal booze from bootleggers there. His plan did snare some 22 people, according to Barber in her book, but the speakeasy was only phase one of the plan.

Agent David Mayne came from upstate New York and he was tasked with breaking up the distribution network. To do that he set up his own still and bootlegging operation at Pierceville in Camden County. Mayne, however, was working from the Virginia Prohibition office. North Carolina Prohibition officers did not know his still had been bought and paid for with federal funds or that it was producing whiskey as part of an ongoing investigation.

On Sept. 15, 1926, North Carolina agents raided the still.

As facts emerged of what the Prohibition agents had been doing, the public was outraged.

“Facts Support Startling Charges That Government Dry Agents Had Moonshine Still Near This City,” read the front-page Daily Advance headline on Jan. 14, 1927.

The outrage, though, was not confined to local papers. Rep. Fiorello Henry LaGuardia, the prominent New York Republican, brought the actions of the agents to the attention of Congress.

On Jan. 10, 1927, Sen. James Read of Missouri introduced a measure demanding that Internal Revenue Commissioner David H. Blair, and Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Lincoln C. Andrews furnish to the Senate “copies of all orders and correspondence relative to the employment of what is known as undercover agents employed in the enforcement of the prohibition statutes.”

Included in Read’s resolution was an article in the Washington Star Ledger describing in detail the agents’ actions.

In Congress there was growing uncertainty about Prohibition. As early as 1924, Samuel Gompers, head of the powerful American Federation of Labor, sent a letter to Congress. Citing, “the lawless vender of forbidden liquor on the one side, and the lawless enforcement officer on the other, the public has suffered irreparable damage,” Gompers declared. He asked for a modification of the Volstead Act.

A 1931 congressional report showed the failure of Prohibition operations over the previous decade, concluding that, “The evidence before us tends to show a great increase in the number of stills and a universality of operating extending all over the country. The amount of moonshine liquor in this country per year can not be estimated within reasonable bounds.”

In late 1932, with newly elected Franklin Roosevelt about to be sworn in as president, Congress bowed to the inevitable. Both the Democratic and Republican party platforms called for the end of Prohibition. Support in Congress grew for a joint resolution to repeal the 18th Amendment, which the 21^st Amendment did the following year.

Coastal Review regularly features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the North Carolina coast. He shares on his website the essays and lectures that he has written about the state’s coast as well as brings readers along on his search for the lost stories of our coastal past in the museums, libraries and archives he visits in the U.S. and across the globe. 

I recently asked my friend Tom Earnhardt if he would share some of his wonderful photographs from The Nature Conservancy’s Green Swamp Preserve with me.

I think I just wanted to dwell a bit on one of the beautiful wild places that I hope to visit when this cold weather is gone and spring is here and the wildflowers begin to bloom again.

The Green Swamp Preserve is made up of 17,000 acres of largely pocosin and pine savanna in Brunswick County and Columbus County, just to the west, in the southern most corner of the North Carolina coast.

A gentleman tried and true, Tom not only sent me the photographs, but kindly gave me his permission to share them.

As I’m sure you know, Tom was for many years the creator and host of “Exploring North Carolina,” WUNC-TV’s very popular weekly television show featuring the glories of our state’s natural heritage.

Over the last half century, Tom has been one of North Carolina’s most dedicated conservationists. Day in and day out, he has devoted himself to protecting our wild places and to deepening our appreciation for them. And as you can see here, he is also a very talented photographer.

I’ve gone here and yon with Tom, but I have never had the chance to go to the Green Swamp Preserve with him.

However, I have long known that he has a special passion for the place. Located in the swampy low country of southeastern North Carolina, the preserve is made up of pocosin swamps and longleaf pine savannas that are a precious remnant of an ecosystem that once stretched across hundreds of square miles.

Biologists and nature lovers are especially drawn to the Green Swamp Preserve for the abundance and rich diversity of its carnivorous plants and for its wild orchids and other wildflowers, all of which are incredibly beautiful and some of which are quite rare.

“If the The Nature Conservancy had never done anything else, it would have proven its worth just with the Green Swamp Preserve,” Tom once told me. “That’s how important I think it is to preserving North Carolina’s natural heritage.”

The only time that I’ve been to the preserve was more than 25 years ago now. At the time, I was doing historical research for my book “The Waterman’s Song” and I just wanted to get a better feeling for the land on which the people I was writing about lived.

What I remember most from that visit are the things that I could never have discovered in old books and manuscripts: the smell of the longleaf pine savannas, the music of the birds and insects, the quality of the light, the feeling of the earth beneath my feet.

I still remember walking across the sphagnum moss, it being so spongy that it made the ground itself feel alive.

Earth, but also sea, or so it felt.

For me the Green Swamp Preserve is an otherworldly place, more precious yet because it is still there when so much is not.

When I first saw Tom’s photographs, my memories — the smells, the sounds, the light, all of it — came back to me in a rush, as real as the day I was there all those years ago.

Tom once wrote me:

“The Green Swamp and our other remaining longleaf pine forests appear to be so simple and ‘even boring.’ From a distance our savannas appear to be composed of only one kind of tree (longleaf) and one kind of grass (wire grass). But take a closer look, and wow!”

He went on to explain:

“The biodiversity found in these places — rare carnivorous plants, exquisite flowers, and unusual insects and birds — form tight-knit communities in which all things are connected. The success of each living thing is dependent on the success of their neighbors. We have a lot to learn from the land of the longleaf pine.”

I hope you enjoy Tom’s photographs as much as I do.

Lucky for us, we can find all 14 seasons of Tom’s award-winning show “Exploring North Carolina” at WUNC-TV’s website. And to learn how you can support the Green Swamp Preserve and other critical land conservation efforts in our part of the world, be sure to check out the website for the Nature Conservancy’s North Carolina chapter. 

Two beachfront state parks had more than a million visitors each in 2023, contributing to the total 20.1 million who visited the 42 sites in the North Carolina State Parks system last year.

Fort Fisher State Recreational Area in New Hanover County was the second most visited park in the state with 1.37 million visitors, behind Jordan Lake State Recreation Area in Chatham County, which had 2.5 million visitors.

The statewide park system had an overall increase of 4% in visitation since 2022, with the nine sites on the coast bringing in a quarter of those visitors, around 4.9 million, officials recently announced.

Fort Macon State Park in Carteret County brought in 1.05 million visitors last year. Other coastal sites that saw growth are Carolina Beach, Dismal Swamp, Hammocks Beach, Merchants Millpond and Pettigrew state parks while numbers for Goose Creek and Jockey’s Ridge state parks show a decline in visitors.

Department of Natural and Cultural Resources Secretary Reid Wilson said in a statement that the growth in park visitation “puts an exclamation point on an incredibly successful Year of the Trail in North Carolina.”

The Great Trails State Coalition celebrated the Year of the Trail in 2023 as a way to promote supporting and investing in North Carolina trails.

“We were excited to welcome more visitors to enjoy our naturally wonderful state parks, especially as several of our parks have recently added new campgrounds and visitor centers and as we celebrated the Year of the Trail,” State Parks Director Brian Strong said in a statement.

Fort Fisher sees growth

Fort Fisher State Recreation Area, located 18 miles south of Wilmington, has a beach access and allows beach driving.

“It’s nice to see that people are really enjoying Fort Fisher State Recreational Area, so much so that it was the second busiest state park,” Superintendent Jeff Owen told Coastal Review, referring to the 1.38 million visitors to the New Hanover County attraction in 2023. The site had 1.11 million visitors in 2022.

“All areas of our park saw more people, particularly the four-wheel-drive beach and the pedestrian beach,” Owen said. “It has created a strain on our small staff, we only have four rangers, and has been a challenge on our natural resources. The biggest one being nesting sea turtles as their season coincides with our busiest visitation of the year.”

Rangers ask that visitors, whom Owen said “did a really good job last year,” continue to be vigilant when driving on the beach and look for signs of sea turtle nests that are always marked with signs and reflective tape. 

“Lastly, but most importantly, please check local weather forecasts before entering the water to swim,” Owen said, adding to ask a staff member what the conditions of the water are when you arrive before swimming or use the pedestrian beach monitored by lifeguards 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. daily.

Fort Macon numbers steady as park turns 100

Fort Macon State Park in Atlantic Beach is built around a restored pre-Civil War fort and offers beach accesses and a bathhouse.

Superintendent Randy Newman told Coastal Review that, “Overall, we’ve had great numbers.” The Bogue Banks state park averages a million visitors annually and 2023 with its 1.06 million was no different. The park saw 1.02 million visitors in 2022.

“This summer we had great weather and no storms, which always helps with visitation,” Newman said, explaining that much of Fort Macon’s numbers depend on the weather.

Upcoming events at the park include the Mosquito Endurance Run, 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. March 23. The 12-hour race is to raise money to help the park preserve a North Atlantic right whale calf for educational purposes. It will also go to the upkeep of park trails and park enhancements. Register for the race via the Friends of Fort Macon website.

Newman said that the Bonehenge Whale Center in Beaufort is going to articulate the skeleton of the calf found dead in January 2023 near Morehead City so it can be displayed in the park’s visitor center, if feasible. Bonehenge focuses on research and education for whales, dolphins and porpoises found in North Carolina.

Because there’s so few of this endangered species, Newman said they’re hoping to use the skeleton as an education tool.

Looking ahead, the site will soon celebrate a century as a state park.

Fort Macon “will be 100 years old June 4 as a state park,” Newman said, and officials have planned several celebrations.

Starting June 1, there will be a Military Through the Ages event, when the grounds will be filled with reenactors from different periods.

This is the first event of its kind for the park and “Hopefully that’s going to be a success so we can build on in the future,” Newman said.

Newman added that a military band has been invited to perform June 4, and there will be an artillery barrage with cannon June 8.  Fort Macon will host a car show June 9 with 100 classic cars representing the 100 years. The regularly scheduled ranger-led programs will take place as well

Also in the works is a Halloween “haunted fort” event to take place the last two weekends of October, hosted by the nonprofit Friends group. Organizations and businesses can make a donation to decorate a casemate for the fundraising event that will support fort preservation.

Newman said last year was the first and this year will be even better.

Two exceptions

State Parks Public Information Officer Kris Anne Bonifacio told Coastal Review that all coastal parks saw small increases in visitation, except Goose Creek and Jockey’s Ridge state parks.

Bonifacio said Goose Creek dropped from 146,155 visitors in 2022 to 125,933 last year. She’s still looking into why that happened.

Rangers at Jockey’s Ridge, which had 982,328 visitors in 2022 but only saw 745,022 in 2023, according to the official count, mentioned that they were having issues with the vehicle counters.

Bonifacio said staff at the Outer Banks site estimate that their actual visitation was equitable or even greater than 2022 numbers, based on what they saw daily throughout the year.

“Visitation data for all of our state parks are estimates, since we have no way of counting every single person who visits each park,” Bonifacio explained.

North Carolina State University is working on a visitation study to review the formula used for vehicle counters. “That study will look at a few different sources of data to get a better idea of trends over the last few years. For our purposes, we are primarily focused on the trends, and we look at visitation numbers holistically and with other things such as reservations, annual pass sales, and events and programming,” she said.

Revenues

The nine coastal parks saw growth in reservations revenue from $690,529 in 2022 to $730,909 in 2023.

Bonifacio reiterated that the state parks system is “designed for the enjoyment of all and revenue generation is not a priority, it does reflect the overall trends” of more visitors coming to state parks.

“Even at our parks that may have gone down in visitation, like Goose Creek State Park, show an increase in overnight reservations, which makes sense given the improvements we have made in their camping facilities over the last few years,” Bonifacio added. “We hope to see the same at Hammocks Beach’s new RV campground for this year and the coming years.”

Hammocks Beach State Park in the Swansboro area is in the process of adding a recreational vehicle, trailer and tent campground as well as backpacking sites on the mainland.

“We anticipate we will open the campground in the summer,” Bonifacio said. The campground will include 12 full hookups sites, four camper cabins, similar to what is at Carolina Beach and Goose Creek state parks, seven drive-up tent sites, and will be three hike-in primitive sites. There will also be a centrally located bathhouse with hot showers.

“We are very excited to offer additional camping facilities at Hammocks Beach State Park, especially ones that are easier to access than the primitive campsites at Bear Island,” Hammocks Beach Superintendent Sarah Kendrick said. “We know our backpack-by-ferry and paddle-in campers have enjoyed the coastal overnight experience for many years, and we look forward to providing that opportunity to those who camp by RV, trailer, or car as well.”

Bonifacio said the former Teachers Building, which has been under restoration since early 2023, that African American educators used as a meeting place in the mid-20^th century, is to open this summer as well, “So we are very excited to have that reopen, and we hope our visitors will enjoy those new facilities.”

Growing park system

Also in 2023, the state parks system acquired more than 2,890 acres in the Piedmont and mountains. The system ended the year with 262,074 total acres.

“It was a productive year for the division by all accounts — land protection, planning, natural resource management, operations, safety, and interpretation and education,” stated Strong, the state parks director. “We look forward to the year ahead as we continue our stewardship of these beloved places in North Carolina.”

Bonifacio explained that the system did not have any land acquisitions in 2023 at any of the parks on the coast.

“Due to a multitude of factors, most of our land acquisitions are in the Piedmont and the mountains,” she said. “Land protection plans for many of our coastal parks have limited acreage, and some state recreation areas and state natural areas are at the max planned acres.”

There are some exceptions, notably Merchants Millpond and Pettigrew, which have thousands of acres in future needs as identified in their land protection plans. “We closed last month on three land parcels at Merchants Millpond actually,” she said.

The Albemarle Sound region, one of the oldest areas in the state to be continuously settled by Europeans, has dozens of small towns with centuries of history.

One of these is Hertford, the county seat of Perquimans County.

Though the town, which has never had more than 2,500 residents, has seen some growth in recent years, it is still rural and quiet.

Wonder Lewis, a Perquimans County native who has worked for the library for three decades, said that when it comes to town expansion, “we’ve added a few things, but not enough.” She believes that Hertford’s charm is its “rural nature,” which makes it a haven for retirees from up north.

The town incorporated in 1758 has played an important role in the political, social and sports history of North Carolina.

In the mid-17th century, settlers in Virginia began to trickle across a yet-to-be drawn border with what would become North Carolina. They bought land from Native Americans and established corn and tobacco plantations along the Albemarle Sound.

Slowly, the increasing population coalesced into new communities. One of these, which later became Hertford, was located in Perquimans Precinct on the Perquimans River.

This community became known early on for its attachment to Quakerism. The founder of the Quakers, George Fox, traveled throughout the region as a popular preacher in 1672.

According to his journal, the people of Perquimans “much desired after (Quaker) meetings,” mainly because there were no other churches.

While all Albemarle Sound counties were influenced by the visiting Quakers in some way, Perquimans was more readily converted than its peers.

The county became home to the first Quaker meeting in the Colony a few years later and remained the center of Quakerism in North Carolina for more than a century.

Apart from the dominance of Quakerism, Hertford resembled other small towns of the Albemarle region such as Windsor in Bertie County. It was a center for the tobacco trade located on a large navigable river that wound its way through the region’s tobacco plantations.

This location brought a modest amount of wealth to the small settlement. One group of prosperous residents near the Perquimans River helped contribute to the construction of the oldest surviving brick house in North Carolina.

The Newbold-White House, likely built in the early 1730s, remains an outstanding example of 18th-century Quaker plan architecture.

Hertford played an ancillary role in events of the late 18th and 19th centuries. It was too small to be a notable target for either the British in the 1770s or the Union in the 1860s. But Hertford did build up a quaint historic downtown.

The current Perquimans County Courthouse completed in 1824 is one of the town’s more remarkable structures.

Hertford also contributed several important people to the state and nation in its early years. Perhaps the most influential was John Harvey, a leader of the North Carolina Provincial Congress and one of the leading Patriots before his untimely death in 1775.

The 20th century saw Hertford grow and gain some of its more notable attributes.

One was the “S bridge” connecting Hertford and neighboring Winfall, the oldest swing-span bridge in the state until it was replaced in 2021. Its replacement opens in the same way and looks much the same as its 1920s predecessor.

The town also gained a commercial district with the banks and department stores of typical eastern North Carolina towns, and became a minor tourist attraction in the 1980s when the Newbold-White House was opened as a historic site.

Besides John Harvey, the most notable native of the town lived during the 20th century.

Jim “Catfish” Hunter excelled at multiple sports at Perquimans County High School before making his way to Major League Baseball. He won over 220 games and five World Series in his 15-season career, according to ESPN.

There is some uncertainty as to how the construction of Interstate 87 will affect the area. The road, which will connect Interstate 40 in Raleigh to Interstate 64 in Norfolk, Virginia, is projected to increase traffic and potentially expand the suburban sprawl of Norfolk, located less than 60 miles to the northeast.

Hertford has remained small despite centuries of growth in nearby Elizabeth City and Edenton, and there is a high chance that it will retain the small-town character that has defined it for centuries.

While many know most historic towns in eastern North Carolina like Edenton, Beaufort or Wilmington because of their prominence during the Colonial period, there are a number of communities that gained importance during the era of the canal and the railroad.

Richlands is one of those towns.

While there are references to the “Rich Lands of the New River” that can be found as early as the Colonial period, the Onslow County community began to grow in the early 20th century from a rural, unincorporated crossroads — one of many in the region — to a center for education and railroad commerce.

Along the way, the town, which is about 20 miles from Jacksonville, eventually became central to the future of rural Onslow County while retaining its small-town atmosphere.

An official at the Richlands branch of the Onslow County Library said that the town “reminds me of a postcard. It’s a quaint little town without the hurry and bustle of Jacksonville.”

The community of Richlands was part of the decades-long migration of English settlers into eastern North Carolina throughout the mid-18th century.

Following the defeat of the Tuscarora by British Colonists in the 1710s, settlers began to move into their former territory, founding tobacco and corn plantations, tapping trees for naval stores, and building modest homes and communities as they went.

The fertile areas along major rivers were settled first, leading to towns such as New Bern, Brunswick and Tarboro. Areas further from navigable rivers and on smaller rivers received settlers next, including Richlands on the New River.

Richlands was a center for education as it was home to Richlands Academy, one of many preparatory schools founded in North Carolina before the Civil War.

These institutions survived in a time before compulsory public education and were less expensive than the tutors hired to provide instruction in wealthy families.

Founded in 1848 but with earlier roots, Richlands Academy remained small and limited in instruction, but it served as a preparatory school for the well-known Randolph Macon College in Virginia.

The school lasted for 60 years, much longer than many of the state’s antebellum academies. This legacy of education lives on both in the local high school and the Onslow County Museum located in town.

Incorporated March 29, 1880, Richlands did not begin to grow substantially until the early 20th century.

In 1905, the Dover and Southbound Railroad came into the area. This railroad offered a lifeline to larger towns on the former Wilmington and Weldon Railroad like New Bern and Jacksonville.

As noted in the town’s historic district National Register nomination, “Richlands quickly became the major collection and distribution point for farmers in the surrounding countryside.”

A business district popped up along the rail line around the corner of Hargett and Wilmington streets. This area became the home of numerous commercial buildings that comprise the town’s present historic district. 

Along with education and the railroad, the most important development for Richlands was the establishment of nearby Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in the early 1940s.

Camp LeJeune absorbed one community, the aptly named village called Marines on the New River, and affected social and economic patterns in the greater region.

A new base meant jobs, housing, and an influx of millions of dollars from contractors and the federal government. Richlands, which is about 20 miles northwest of Camp LeJeune, soon began to feel the effects of this growth. The population nearly doubled between 1940 and 1960.

Today, Richlands is facing the same predicament as other towns and communities around North Carolina’s military bases.

Like Sneads Ferry and Goldsboro, Richlands has centuries of heritage, a considerable historic district, and a host of small businesses.

But the lure of millions of dollars and thousands of new residents from Camp LeJeune is already threatening Richlands’ small-town setting. Traffic increases daily, and chain restaurants and stores have already begun marching up U.S. Highway 258 from Jacksonville toward the town.

It may be possible for Richlands to retain both its historic center and the suburban sprawl that typifies rapidly growing military-adjacent towns in the 21st century. But the possibility of being relegated to a bedroom community still looms for the town at the rich lands of the New River.

Nature enthusiasts can start the new year off on the right foot at one of the dozens of ranger-led hikes taking place at North Carolina’s state parks.

“After a few years of smaller First Day Hikes programming, we are excited to offer a wide variety of guided hikes and events at most of our state parks for 2024,” State Parks Director Brian Strong said in a release. “We hope our visitors take the opportunity, as we wrap up the holiday season, to bring family and friends and begin a new year of outdoor adventures together.”

North Carolina Division of Parks and Recreation officials said there are more than 50 staff-led First Day Hikes scheduled for Monday, Jan. 1, ranging in length and difficulty. Hikers are encouraged to share photos and videos on social media using the hashtags #ncstateparks and #FirstDayHikes.

Public Information Officer Kris Anne Bonifacio highlighted the state’s coastal parks, which she said have planned a variety of First Day Hike options, most of which are relatively flat and easy.

“Visitors can enjoy the unique environments of the tall sand dunes at Jockey’s Ridge or the barrier Bear Island at Hammocks Beach. They can explore the salt marsh at Fort Macon or experience the various ecosystems at Carolina Beach on a hike along Sugarloaf Trail,” Bonifacio said. “They can learn about flora and fauna of Dismal Swamp or Merchants Millpond or help clean up the beach at Fort Fisher. They can spend the whole day at Goose Creek’s 50th anniversary celebration.”

She added that there’s also the option for hikers to choose their own adventure and take a self-guided scavenger hunt at Pettigrew State Park in Washington and Tyrrell counties.

“They are also welcome to visit any of our parks and hike on their own during regular park hours if they would prefer to avoid big crowds. Just bring plenty of water, wear proper hiking shoes and if bringing a pet, make sure they are leashed,” she said.

‘Cherished tradition’

Organized by the National Association of State Park Directors, the annual First Day Hikes program launched in 1992 in Massachusetts, and as of 2012, all 50 states have participated.

“I am thrilled to see the continued growth and success of the First Day Hikes program,” Lewis Ledford, executive director of the association, said in a statement. “This initiative has become a cherished tradition, providing individuals and families with the opportunity to embrace the outdoors, and kick off the year with a commitment to health and well-being.”

Not only is Goose Creek State Park in Beaufort County celebrating the new year, 2024 marks 50 years since the park was first established.

Goose Creek State Park Superintendent Matt Windsor said that they planned the park’s 50^th anniversary event to coincide with First Day Hikes as a way to celebrate the unique park, “where you have to get off the beaten path to enjoy some of the most accessible wetlands in eastern NC in the best hiking weather of the year.”

Scheduled for 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday, the celebration will begin with an opening ceremony and black powder musket demonstration at Flicker Field, where the Historic Bath State Historic Site and Beaufort County Traditional Music Association also will be set up. Throughout the day, there will be tar kiln demonstrations, cooking demonstrations, musket demonstrations, and live music and food.

The North Carolina Estuarium, an environmental center based in Washington, will lead a hike on the Palmetto Boardwalk Trail at 10:30 a.m. and at 1 p.m. that day, Sound Rivers will lead a hike on the Live Oak Trail. Sound Rivers is a nonprofit that works to protect the Neuse and Tar-Pamlico River watersheds.

Windsor said that in October 1974, the state made the first purchase from wood product manufacturer Weyerhauser of what would eventually become the 1,700-acre Goose Creek State Park. Goose Creek, which hosted 146,000 visitors last year, “is a jewel of Beaufort County” and was designated as a National Natural Landmark by the National Park Service. 

In addition to containing the longest segment of publicly owned, undeveloped, low-salinity estuarine shoreline in the state in the national natural landmark area, the park also offers tent, trailer and cabin camping, around 10 miles of trails, paddle and power boat access, a swim beach along the Pamlico River, and an environmental education center, he said.

As Bonifacio mentioned, Pettigrew State Park in Creswell is having an activity participants can complete at their leisure. 

Superintendent Jim Trostle said the First Day Hike is a self-guided scavenger hunt along Bee Tree Trail. Around 2.5 miles round trip, this is a flat, easy walk that encompasses Somerset Place, a state historic site, and some of the oldest trees still standing in the park.

Hikers can pick up the scavenger hunt list at the park office after 10 a.m. Visitors can bring back the completed list and pick a prize from our prize box, Trostle said.

The First Day Hike at Dismal Swamp State Park in Camden County with Ranger Alan Brown is set for 10 a.m. next to the Dismal Swamp State Park bridge. He will lead hikers on a 2-mile loop to look for various wildlife.

Merchants Millpond State Park in Gates County will begin its First Day Hike at 11 a.m., leaving from the boat ramp parking area.

Park Ranger David Schafer said the hike is an easy 2-mile stroll on the Coleman Trail.

“We will learn about the history of the park and some of the flora and fauna that live within it,” he said, adding hikers should bring water, wear sturdy shoes and dress for the weather.

“Coleman Trail itself traverses through multiple ecological communities including pine, hardwood forest, and swamps. Visitors to the park in the winter can enjoy open vistas of the Millpond free of vegetation and the tree canopy,” he said. “Canoers that come during warmer, sunny days also have the chance to spot one of our resident alligators sunning on logs throughout the waters of the swamp. Come enjoy the solitude and tranquility that so many visitors have come to love about Merchants Millpond State Park.”

On the Outer Banks, explore the largest sand dune on the East Coast at Jockey’s Ridge State Park in Nags Head. Meet at the visitor center back deck at 9 a.m. for the 1.5-mile hike that will include parts of the of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail and finish at the top of the main dune. Because it can be extra windy and cold this time of the year, organizers recommend hikers wear appropriate shoes and clothing for the terrain and weather conditions.

Park Ranger Austin Paul said that there are 220,000 acres managed by the state parks system from the coast to the mountains, so there should be thousands of individuals, potentially, that will be hiking together on the first day of the year.

“Of course, this is a great start to the first of the year,” he continued, adding the First Day Hikes allow the state parks the opportunity to provide recreational and educational experiences for visitors. “We want to be able to provide a safe and healthy environment for our visitors to come and enjoy and celebrate the New Year by getting out and exploring.”

He said the hike at Jockey’s Ridge should be easy to lightly strenuous from the visitor center out to the big ridge “and along the way, we’ll cover everything from park ecology to dune formation.”

Fort Macon State Park rangers have planned four hikes to bring in 2024. The first two are from 9-10:30 a.m. and the second two begin at 3 p.m.

The shorter hikes at 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. will offer a nature and bird hike on the Yarrow’s Loop Trail and the inlet beach, covering less than a mile. The longer hikes at 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. will be a nature and bird hike, as well, but on the 3.2-mile Elliot Coues Trail. Wear sturdy shoes and bring a water bottle and bug spray.

Fort Macon State Park Superintendent Randy Newman told Coastal Review that the First Day Hikes often get visitors who are thinking about walking or hiking for the new year out of the house and on the trail.  

“The reason the staff at Fort Macon State Park built the trails was to get visitors out into the park so they could experience the diversity of nature that the park has to offer. It is also important for children to get them on the trails for their physical and mental health,” he added.

Also on Jan. 1, Fort Macon will have small arms demonstrations at 10:30 a.m. and 2:30 p.m.

Hammocks Beach State Park rangers are offering two First Day Hikes. The first is set for 10 a.m. to noon and the second 1-3 p.m. Join Park Ranger Renee Evans on a ferry ride to Bear Island and hear about some of the habitats and wildlife that can be found there. Visitors will have a chance to explore the beach. Space is limited, so registration is required for either hike. Call 910-326-4881 to sign up.

Evans reminded those interested in attending that the ferry rides are free but require a registration. “It’s a very popular program we put on at the park in January. We get a lot of requests for it. You should see the standby list.”

With each group, she said she plans to talk the flora and fauna that can be found on Bear Island as well as any history associated with the island while walking along the path toward the beach.  After the talk, participants will have a chance to walk and explore the beach on their own before heading back to the Visitor Center.

Evans said that every year the First Day Hikes either take place at Bear Island or the hiking trails adjacent to the Visitor Center on the mainland in Swansboro.

“It’s all dependent on operational conditions at the park. We haven’t been able to lead one of the Bear Island trips since January 2018. We’re very excited,” she said.

At Carolina Beach State Park, the 2-mile walk to Sugarloaf Dune is scheduled for 10 a.m. to noon. Meet at the Sugarloaf Trailhead near the marina, and bring water and hiking shoes.

“We will discuss some history of the park and our plants and animals that make us unique,” Park Superintendent Crystal Lloyd said, adding this is her first program since joining Carolina Beach, “I’m really excited to see what the turnout will be like.”

The First Day “Trash and Treasure” Beach Walk at Fort Fisher State Recreation Area is scheduled for 8:30 a.m.  Meet by the lifeguard stand at the end of the boardwalk for the mile-long hike to see what was left on the beach the night before. Park staff recommend bringing water, a container for any beach finds and a small trash bag for the cleanup. Pets are welcome but must be on a leash no longer than 6 feet at all times.

“Participants will learn about the common shells found on the beach and some quick tips to spot sharks teeth, while also helping to clean up our beautiful park by picking up trash,” Ranger Emily Abernethy said. The walk is a mile, but participants are welcome to walk as far as they’d like.

She added that there will be couple of guide books available for use to help identify beach finds. 

“This will be a great way to start out the New Year by spending time on our beautiful beach while also doing some community service,” Abernethy said.

In addition to the First Day Hikes, most of North Carolina’s state parks have programming throughout the year. To check the schedule of events at a park near you, visit ncparks.gov.

Coastal Review will not publish Monday-Wednesday next week.

Edenton is an unusual center of historical tourism in the state. It is much larger than the preserved museum pieces that make up historic sites such as Bath and Halifax. But it is also far from the beach and lacks any large companies like the ones home to New Bern, Wilmington and Beaufort.

Instead, Edenton is a town of 5,000 that is Chowan’s county seat and has one of the largest groups of historic buildings in the state. After years of neglect that were remarkable for a town once billed as a colonial capital, Edenton’s historic legacy has propelled it over the past five decades and continues to define it into the 21st century.

Locals here have long recognized the importance of history to life in Edenton. Charles Boyette is a historical interpreter in downtown Edenton whose family has lived in the Albemarle Sound region for hundreds of years. He has been going downtown for decades for various reasons. Boyette said that for Edenton residents, “history is an everyday part of your life.”

Boyette would drive downtown to go to eat at nice restaurants or buy appliances. He recalls seeing historic names on every house and spending much of his childhood wondering who exactly lived in those stately mansions. This interest ended up leading to a career in historical interpretation, a field he has been in for over a decade.

Edenton came out of the early settlement of northeastern North Carolina. In the 17th century, farmers began to move south from Virginia to the area north of Albemarle Sound looking for better tobacco lands. They settled along the sound and its most navigable rivers, such as the Pasquotank and Chowan. As the English population grew in the area, the ruling Lords Proprietor were compelled to establish forms of government and other entities to aid with trade and tax collecting.

Along with the first North Carolina counties, the Proprietors allowed for the establishment of early towns. Edenton, founded on the confluence of the sound and Queen Anne’s creek, was the third town founded in the colony after Bath and New Bern. It was named after Charles Eden, an early governor of the colony who later became well known for his alleged friendship with the notorious pirate, Blackbeard.

Edenton continued to grow in size and significance throughout the 18th century. It became the first capital of North Carolina in 1722. The town was a port for the entire Albemarle region. Northeastern planters could load their batteaux full of tobacco and other supplies and send them down the Roanoke or Chowan rivers, free of impediments, to Edenton.

Consequently, the town became a center for sophisticated governmental buildings and political leaders. It is the home of North Carolina’s oldest courthouse, the Chowan County Courthouse, built in 1767 on the town green. It was also the residence for numerous governors and later senators.

Famous North Carolinians like Supreme Court Justice James Iredell, signer of the Declaration of Independence Joseph Hewes, and Gov. Samuel Johnston, who all called the town home during the 18th century.

Both men and women played important roles in the town’s history at this time. The women of Edenton launched a famous boycott of British tea in 1774, one of the most notable protests by women during the colonial period.

As the 18th century continued, the focus of settlement in North Carolina shifted to the south and west. The colony became less dependent on overland and river travel from Virginia. North Carolina began to cultivate other early ports and utilize the Neuse and Cape Fear rivers. An assortment of Scots-Irish, German and Scottish settlers began to use overland routes to populate the backcountry, further reducing the significance of the Albemarle region. Finally, Edenton was further isolated by a 1795 hurricane that deposited silt into the Albemarle Sound’s ocean inlet.

But Edenton remained an important town in the early history of the state. It was surpassed in population by other towns, dropping to the eighth largest town in the state by the 1860 census. But its coastal position and proximity to Norfolk meant that the city still retained a level of importance in the coastal region. It remained a center of shipping and water transportation, both along the coast and internationally. This location contributed to Edenton’s role in the slave trade. International and coastal slave ships plied the waters of the Albemarle and docked at Edenton.

Numerous enslaved people would work as pilots and seamen. One of these ships helped bring Edenton-born Harriet Jacobs to freedom. As a girl, Jacobs was abused by her enslaver and resolved to escape. She spent seven years hidden in a small crawl space before reaching a ship and finding her way to freedom in New York City. Her memoir, “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl,” ended up becoming a bestselling book and an important piece of Southern literature.

Unlike other early Albemarle towns, Edenton retained enough statewide importance to become a strategic target during the Civil War. One of Edenton’s Confederate units, named the Bell Battery because it fired a cannon melted down from the town’s brass bells, fought at the battles of Fredericksburg and Kinston. The town was vulnerable once Gen. Ambrose Burnside successfully captured nearby Roanoke Island. It was invaded by the Union shortly after and held until the end of the war.

Following the war, Edenton embraced the agriculture industry and the new crops that became dominant in the region. It was a center for peanut growing and processing. Edenton gained a cotton mill in the 1890s, one of the first in the Albemarle region, according to the mill’s National Register of Historic Places nomination form.

Much of the mill complex and its village is still standing and now contains a museum. Edenton’s position on the coast and embrace of industry allowed it to retain a considerable amount of wealth for a coastal North Carolina town. This wealth is evident by the dozens of stately Victorian homes that dot the historic district, including the circa 1851 Wessington House at 120 W. King St. and a notable brick mansion at 205 E. King St.

The 20th century saw Edenton embrace its rich historic legacy in a way that few other towns of its size in the southeast had before. In many ways, the historic preservation movement in North Carolina began with a project in the town. The 1758 Cupola House, one of Edenton’s oldest houses and a site of state history, was slated to be torn down in 1918.

A local group, the Cupola House Association, purchased the property at 408 S. Broad St. and turned it into a local museum. Authors Mary Ann Coffey and Murphy Moss described the purchase as “the earliest community preservation effort in NC to save a historic structure.” The precedent of the Cupola House would be repeated numerous times throughout the state and helped pave the way for the creation of the historic preservation movement.

Historic tourism has emerged to become a significant part of Edenton’s economy. The downtown area is dominated by the Edenton Historic District and the numerous historic buildings that are open for tours by public and private groups. Edenton also has several downtown gift shops, restaurants and three historic bed and breakfasts, including the award-winning Inner Banks Inn.

The town was part of writer Joseph Cosco’s 1993 scenic tour of the Albemarle, of which he wrote, “Scattered here and there, almost always near the water, are the history-soaked mansions, merchant-class homes and county courthouses that served as a stage for the birth of both the colony and the nation.” Interest has only grown since then, with its historic district being featured numerous times on HGTV and in the New York Times.

There is uncertainty on the horizon for Edenton’s future. Like the rest of the Albemarle region, it has the potential to be a suburb of Norfolk. Interstate 87 has the potential to substantially reduce driving times between the Albemarle and the Hampton Roads area. Edenton is only 50 miles south of Suffolk, Virginia, a town that has grown by nearly 10 times since 1970. It has the potential to become a bedroom community, defined by large apartment complexes, chain stores, and subdivisions.

Despite this growth, there is hope here that state laws and the local love of history will preserve downtown Edenton as a center for the state’s historic heritage for generations to come.

This is a selection of historical photographs depicting the Waccamaw Lumber Co.’s logging and lumber operations in Columbus and Brunswick counties. They date to the early 20th century, sometime, I would estimate, between 1910 and 1930.

They are now preserved, and available for the public to see, at Duke University’s David M. Rubinstein Rare Book and Manuscripts Collections Library.

In my recent essay on the Italian immigrant laborers who built railroads on the North Carolina coast, I used four other photographs from that collection. You can find them here.

But I thought that quite a few of the other photographs in the collection were also worth sharing.

Incorporated in 1904, the Waccamaw Lumber Co. acquired more than 230,000 acres of land in Columbus and Brunswick counties in the first decade of the 20th century.

The company built a sprawling lumber mill in the town of Bolton, a logging camp called Makatoka, and an 18-mile-long railroad that ran into the Green Swamp.

One of the Waccamaw Lumber Co.’s train engineers, Anson Whitfield “Whit” Martin, took the photographs.

Whit Martin was born in 1883, so he was a relatively young man at that time.

To write captions for the photographs, I have relied heavily on a special edition of a local heritage journal called Kin’ Lin’. That journal was published from 1975 to 1985 by the students at Hallsboro High School, 10 miles west of Bolton.

The journal’s faculty sponsors were Mary W. Mintz and Ruby Campbell. They apparently used the journal to improve the writing and research skills of their students, as well as to deepen their students’ appreciation for Columbus County’s history and cultural heritage.

During the 1982-83 school year, Whit Martin’s widow, Bessie Burney Martin, leant the album containing her husband’s photographs to the students and faculty members who produced Kin’ Lin’.

The students then built a special edition of Kin’ Lin’ around those photographs. They discussed the photographs with a diverse group of local senior citizens who had either worked at the Waccamaw Lumber Co. or who otherwise remembered its mill and logging camp.

Those individuals were quite elderly by that time, of course. But they generously sat down with the students and answered their questions about the scenes in the photographs and their memories of the company and its workers.

A copy of that issue of Kin’ Lin’ accompanies the photographs that I studied at  Duke’s library.

You can find that issue and other issues of Kin’ Lin’ elsewhere as well, including  University of North Carolina Chapel Hill’s North Carolina Collection and at many local and regional libraries across the state.

The world of lumber mills and logging camps is one of the least documented parts of North Carolina’s coastal history.

The irony, and I suppose shame, of it all, though, is of course that the photographs give us a glimpse at an almost Wild West-like society of loggers and lumbermen that we can’t help but find almost irresistibly interesting.

Yet at the same time, we can’t forget that we are also seeing the inside of a lumber industry bonanza that was sweeping across the North Carolina coast then, cutting down thousands of square miles of ancient forests and draining and burning the land until it was unrecognizable, much like what we see happening in the Amazon rain forest today.

* * *

Coastal Review is featuring the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the North Carolina coast. Cecelski shares on his website essays and lectures he has written about the state’s coast as well as brings readers along on his search for the lost stories of our coastal past in the museums, libraries and archives he visits in the U.S. and across the globe. 

While Morehead City in Carteret County may only be the Crystal Coast’s idea of a big city, it is a transportation hub, occupying an important spot on both a state railroad and a U.S. highway, the latter of which is in the process of upgrades to interstate quality.

The city has already grown to the point where it hosts some of the only major chain restaurants and retail stores, as well as the largest car dealerships in the county, and a new interstate connection is sure to amplify that growth.

But 200 years ago, the land that Morehead City now comprises was an almost-blank spot on the map. It took years of planning, a shift in state policy, and the burgeoning growth of tourism for Morehead City to become one of North Carolina’s economic drivers.

Morehead City emerged over a century after the formation of Carteret County and its neighbor to the east, Beaufort. In Carteret County’s first century, the county and the whole state were focused on turning the town of Beaufort into a major port. That project was slow, however, and the rest of Carteret County was kept impoverished by poor soil and isolation from the rest of the state. Without limited shipping and the naval stores industry, the county would have had no economic base.

But in the mid-19th century, eastern Carteret County became the site of a new plan to rejuvenate the state’s economy through transportation. The plan was centered around the railroad and the vision of a former governor, John Motley Morehead. Morehead was a believer in internal improvements: the construction of roads, canals, and railroads to facilitate commerce and urban development. Canal building and the plank roads movement had been slow and tedious, but railroads seemed to hold greater promise.

After initial experiments, two railroads were built in the 1830s. The success of these north-south routes, the Wilmington and Weldon Railroad and the Raleigh and Gaston Railroad, prompted interest in an east-west line stretching from either the mountains or the western Piedmont to the coast.

In 1849, the North Carolina Railroad Co. was incorporated to put this plan into motion, and Carteret County’s central position along the coast meant that it was a natural home for the railroad’s eastern terminus. 

The North Carolina Railroad started out as a 130-mile stretch between Greensboro and Goldsboro. Three years later, the Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad was incorporated to bring this line to the coast. Now a 317-mile rail corridor connecting Charlotte and the North Carolina Port of Morehead City, its eastern terminus was placed at what was then called Shepherd’s Point, a plot that had been bought by the Shepherd’s Point Land Co. near Beaufort.

The town was incorporated in 1857 and named after Gov. Morehead, who had been an investor in the land company.

Just as the town was beginning to grow, the Civil War turned it into an attractive military target. The area was protected by Fort Macon, a nearby masonry fort staffed by a small garrison. In their preparations to take the fort, Union troops under Gen. John G. Parke set up camp in a small community near Morehead City known as Carolina City. Their landing point on Bogue Banks, Hoop Pole Creek, was directly across the sound from Carolina City. Fort Macon fell in less than two weeks and the Union occupied the entire region for the rest of the war.

For several years after 1865, Morehead City was the only railroad hub in Carteret County. It was the industrial center for the county and had the vast majority of its factories and retail centers. By 1903, the town had a furniture manufacturer, an ice factory, two fish factories, five hotels, and 17 general merchandise businesses, two of which were owned by African Americans.

The town’s railroad connection to the rest of Carteret County greatly aided the county’s farmers, who could send their produce to Morehead City and have it shipped to far-off locales. The railroad also facilitated tourism, which had been limited to boat traffic prior to the 1850s.

A visible symbol of this new industry was the Atlantic Hotel, first located in Beaufort and moved to Morehead City in 1880. The hotel’s popularity led to several organizations being founded in its event spaces, including the state’s teacher and banker associations. 

The early 20th century saw Morehead City grow even more sophisticated. It became the home for marine research facilities and sport fishing tournaments. The city attracted tourists who took the railroad and later came via U.S. Highway 70, which was completed in Morehead City by the late 1920s.

As a reflection of this prosperity, Morehead received one of the county’s most architecturally significant buildings outside of Beaufort in 1926. At 202 S. Eighth St., the Morehead City Municipal Building is described in “A Guide to the Historic Architecture of Eastern North Carolina” by Catherine W. Bishir and Michael T. Southern as Morehead’s “most distinctive downtown landmark.” It is “an imposing two-story structure with a large hip roof and tall Ionic columns,” according to Bishir and Southern.

Morehead City’s status as the business center of Carteret County was particularly relevant for those who grew up in the coastal town.

Dee Lewis, a local historian and frequent volunteer at the Carteret County Historical Museum, grew up in Morehead City in the 1950s and 1960s. He recalls that Morehead City was the economic engine of the county throughout his childhood. It was the center of good-paying jobs at the port and nightlife down Arendell Street. Lewis contrasted the economic and entertainment opportunities in Morehead with the sleepy communities on the mainland and the seasonal tourist spots on Bogue Banks.

As for Morehead City’s historic neighbor to the east, Lewis noted that when he was younger, “the sidewalks rolled up at sundown in Beaufort.” 

Only since the 1950s have other areas in Carteret County grown to rival Morehead City for economic impact. Two developments helped to shift this growth. The first was the construction of bridges connecting Emerald Isle with the mainland. These new bridges led to an explosion of population on the island and the transformation of Bogue Banks from a regional vacation destination to a national one. Visitors to the island could now enjoy many of the lodging and amenities that had previously been located only in Morehead City. Consequently, the population of Emerald Isle increased from 14 in 1960 to over 3,000 by the 2000 census. 

At around the same time, Newport and the surrounding areas were bolstered by the construction of Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point in nearby Havelock. This new base resulted in a need for housing that bolstered Havelock as well as its neighbor to the south, Newport. The growth of these areas has supported the county while taking little away from Morehead City’s economic strength. The city’s population more than doubled between 1940 and 2000, and it remains the largest town in the county by several thousand residents. 

Today, Morehead City remains a center of economic activity for the county. It was a featured location for a 2022 episode of Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives,” when host Guy Fieri held a family reunion on the Crystal Coast and visited several restaurants.

The town continues to grow and construct new businesses while also maintaining its older institutions, such as the famous Sanitary Fish Market and the Big Rock Blue Marlin Tournament. 

Longtime resident Bob Guthrie recalled that as a child, he always wanted passenger trains to run through the city, but now it is a busy hub of tourism, and “you don’t like tourism when you can’t get to things.”

Morehead City is awaiting the completion of Interstate 42, which is to consist of improvements to U.S. 70 between Raleigh and Morehead City and is touted as a way to drastically reduce travel times between the Piedmont and the coast.

Lower travel times may lead to further growth in Morehead City, a municipality that, at 9,556 residents, is still relatively small for a tourist center on the North Carolina coast. The project includes the nearby Havelock Bypass currently under construction.

This new highway has the potential to change the mix of business development and small-town charm that has defined Morehead City for the past century.

To say Pungo Lake is off the beaten path would be a generous understatement.

Situated in the northeastern part of North Carolina that all major roads avoid and even Google doesn’t update, any attempt to travel there brings the possibility for adventure or the potential for mishap.

“Make sure you’re gassed up (with) at least half a tank of fuel, because you’re a long ways away from gas stations,” advised Wendy Stanton, refuge manager for Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, in which Pungo Lake is situated.

Access from the south or west puts travelers on N.C. Highway 45, N.C. 99 or both, since the roads run together for a stretch. Coming from the north or east, the most direct routes involve a variety of tiny roads and then what should be a straight shot on several miles of unpaved, single-car-width peat lanes. But these often end up being closed, either to protect wildlife or to protect the roadways’ accessibility for refuge maintenance vehicles. Google Maps does not reflect these closures, and cell phone service is spotty to nonexistent on the refuge.

When they’re open, in ideal conditions, “driving on them is basically driving on a dry crust of peat,” Stanton said. But traffic breaks down the peat’s structural integrity, as does rainfall, turning the roadways into “mucky slurry” that is unsafe for motorists.

“Last winter, we had to close all our refuge roads because they were in such bad shape,” she said.

Peat is a very fine, organic soil formed from fallen leaves and branches that remain on the ground in an anaerobic (without oxygen) environment, she explained. “When it’s dry, it’s almost the same consistency as corn starch.”

Scientists think the refuge landscape, pockmarked by lakes now, was once contiguous peatlands that wildfires burned down in places, forming lakes as rainfall accumulated there, Stanton said.

“We think Pungo Lake was formed by a groundfire …When those peat soils ignite, they can just burn and smolder for a long period of time.”

Nearby, Phelps Lake, as well as New Lake and Lake Mattamuskeet, each are thought to have formed in that same way. Those lakes, and Pungo Lake, too, are all on North Carolina’s large Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula.

Pungo Lake is a “blackwater lake” with very little to no sunlight penetration, due to the “tannins from the peat and the vegetation, and particulates from the peat soil,” Stanton said. That means there is no submerged aquatic vegetation growing in it, and the lake — with holes up to 6 feet deep in places — looks deeper everywhere than it is, she explained. Swimming, boating and fishing on the lake are always prohibited because “the focus of Pungo Lake is inviolate sanctuary” for wildlife.

The nearly 2,800-square-acre lake is the centerpiece of the refuge’s 12,000-acre Pungo Unit, which was first established as a national wildlife refuge in the 1960s. The rest of the land that now constitutes Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge was added in the 1990s; so currently, the refuge spans over 100,000 acres in Washington, Hyde and Tyrrell counties, according to the refuge website.

A refuge map shows its piecemeal sections spread over the large geographical area.

The refuge’s easternmost swath is by the western bank of the Alligator River, while small areas just south of Columbia include the refuge office. The Pungo Unit is almost the westernmost reach; just one small section of refuge lies even further to the west.

Southeast of Pungo Lake, a larger body of water mostly included in the refuge, New Lake, has been so named since at least 1998, when Stanton began working for the refuge as a biologist. It’s still mislabeled as Alligator Lake on Google Maps.

The refuge owns about 85%, or 4,500 acres, of that roughly 4,900-acre-lake, she said, with the remainder privately owned.

North of Pungo Lake, the refuge includes about 4 miles of shoreline around Lake Phelps’ perimeter, so refuge staff works closely on projects with Pettigrew State Park, which includes Lake Phelps, Stanton said.

While all three lakes are rainwater lakes, their waters are each strikingly different colors because of the soil types beneath them. Lake Phelps appears clear to blue-hued, Pungo Lake is blackwater and New Lake appears brown due to its mixture of peat and mineral soils, she said.

Even not being the farthermost reaches of the refuge, traveling just from the refuge office to the Pungo Unit takes 50 minutes, Stanton said. The only facilities on the refuge, apart from the volunteer-staffed visitor center, are two porta-potties. She encourages visitors to bring water and to be mindful of the weather.

Most of the year, Pungo Lake and the surrounding refuge are quiet, almost seeming otherworldly. No rush of passing traffic or other human-related noises exists to overrun the occasional birds’ calls or the steady thrum of insects.

Early one July morning, the contents of three overturned trash cans were spread across both lanes of Shore Drive, which is included in the refuge and runs just south of Lake Phelps. There had been no overnight storm or significant wind. Turning onto Allen Road, which leads to Pungo Lake (about 6 miles to the south), a plausible explanation appears: A big black bear lumbers off the peat roadway into the bushes.

The Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula has the largest recorded black bears and the highest black bear population densities in the world, according to the nonprofit North Carolina Wildlife Federation.

Many people visit the refuge specifically to see black bears, according to Stanton.

Plymouth, the most populated town on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula and about half an hour’s drive northwest of the Pungo Unit, hosts an annual black bear festival in June to celebrate its famous residents.

A 2003 black bear population estimate based on collected hair samples found 3.5 black bears per square mile, meaning between 300 and 400 bears lived on the refuge, Stanton said.

The bears of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge were found to have the highest genetic diversity in their population out of three regional refuges, meaning “that population is more adaptable to change,” she said. The next-highest genetic diversity was found at the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, located to the northeast, also on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula, and which is connected to Pocosin Lakes by a “wildlife corridor.”

The lowest genetic diversity was found in the black bear population of the Great Dismal Swamp Natural Wildlife Refuge in Virginia, which “makes sense because of all the development going on around it,” she said.

Two decades later, a new black bear population study is in the works for northeastern North Carolina. “Genetic technology has expanded in the last 20 years,” Stanton said. “I’m excited to see that study.”

Other year-round refuge residents are also numerous, including whitetail deer, beavers, muskrats, nutria, otters, marsh birds, wood ducks, hawks, owls, bobcats, foxes, red wolves, turtles, frogs, toads, salamanders, snakes, alligators and more.

“I consider it ‘the Yellowstone of the East,’ too, with the diversity of species,” Stanton said of the refuge, borrowing phrasing from one of her friends.

The only sound first thing on a July morning is the aggressive bumping of huge horseflies into the parked car’s windshield. The roadway is closed immediately ahead. A beaver scuttles across the road into a ditch, quickly disappearing from sight.

About a quarter-mile west of the chained-off Allen Road, turning from Shore Drive onto F2 Road, a longer stretch is drivable before a metal gate comes into view, closed and locked, with posted signs announcing the road’s closure to vehicles. Turning around reveals curious wild turkeys, one creeping out first to check the surroundings and apparently giving its nod of approval to another, who then ventures out. The turkeys run down the road together.

Rabbits and quail are well-camouflaged among refuge flora, which includes wildflowers, grasses and ferns. Honeysuckle and wild grapevines dangle from trees and bushes overhead. A combination of high humidity and the smoke from Canadian wildfires obscures everything more than a short distance away in haze.

Each year from about November through January, the refuge gets naturally louder as more than 100,000 migrating swans, geese, ducks and other birds convene annually to rest and recharge before continuing south. For over 20 migratory species — including ducks, tundra swans and snow geese — the refuge is more than a stopover: It’s their winter retreat, according to the refuge website.

With “very minimal human disturbance” and proximity to fresh water and waterfowl impoundments — designed to grow native plants for the birds’ consumption — Pungo Lake provides an ideal sanctuary for migratory waterfowl, Stanton said. In the winter, “amazing flyouts” take place around sunrise when the birds leave to go forage, and then again at sunset as they return to the lake at night.

Over 30,000 people annually visit Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, which is about a 5,000-person annual increase since before the COVID-19 pandemic.

But Stanton maintains even the 30,000 reflects “a real underestimate.” She said there is sometimes bumper-to-bumper traffic in the winter when people flock to see the waterfowl, which settle on all area lakes.

Landowners’ objectives before the refuge was established were different, Stanton noted.

While nearby areas boast rich soil and productive farmland, peat is a “nutrient and mineral poor soil” that people unsuccessfully tried to farm in the past, she said. Much of northeastern North Carolina’s pocosin land — “pocosin” is a Native American word for “swamp on a hill” — was ditched and drained, with numerous canals dug by hand by enslaved people, such as those around Lake Phelps and Lake Mattamuskeet.

Stanton thinks the area near Pungo Lake was ditched and drained with “old, heavy equipment” more recently, closer to the 1960s, to access a valuable commodity — white cedar wood. For a time, she said the land was also mined for the alternative fuel source, ethanol.

“Now we recognize the value of healthy pocosin land,” Stanton said. Pocosin is also called “Southeast shrub bog” and provides “tremendous carbon storage…(and) excellent wildlife habitat.”

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service manages the refuge with main goals of providing quality wildlife habitat, reducing the risk of catastrophic wildfire and preserving the “tremendous water quality benefit,” she said.

Wet peat ensures a higher water quality for the surrounding area as it reduces both catastrophic fire and flood risks, she explained. Over the years as the refuge has received funding, it has installed water control infrastructure designed to rewet the peat.

“We have now restored over 37,000 acres of pocosin habitat,” she noted, and the goal is to add more water control infrastructure to keep water in the peat in an additional 7,000 to 8,000 acres.

This is one of the largest hydrology restoration projects in the country, according to www.fws.gov.

“Just over the years as we received funding, we piecemealed that infrastructure in to start rewetting the peat,” she said.

The refuge drafted a water management plan, which it put out for public review in 2020, and Stanton said that plan is still being finalized.

The refuge’s visitor center, the Walter B. Jones Sr. Center for the Sounds, is located at 205 South Ludington Drive in Columbia. Free, public programs take place there regularly, as well as at the Red Wolf Center, located a mile south of Columbia on N.C. Highway 94.

For more information about either the visitor center or the red wolf programs, call 252-796-3004 or visit the refuge website at www.fws.gov/refuge/pocosin-lakes. For updates on road closures, call 252-796-3004, extension 225.

ROANOKE ISLAND — For five years during and after the Civil War there was a vibrant community of formerly enslaved people living on the north end of Roanoke Island, with houses, churches, a sawmill, a hospital, schools and stores.

Virtually no evidence of the little community remains — or has yet to be discovered — other than oral history and some written records.

With the new Freedom Interpretive Trail being installed along a 1.25-mile wooded path at Fort Raleigh Historic Site, near the site of the island’s former Freedmen’s Colony, a vital, officials say, but under-recognized part of Outer Banks and Black American history will now be vivified by life-sized silhouettes and interpretive signs with biographical details of some residents of the colony, describing hardships they risked reaching Roanoke and explore why the island was considered a haven. The installation is expected to be completed by the end of the year.

“There will be a narrative that includes different quotes that we have from these different folks, so that will be tied into the silhouette that we’re looking at as we walk the trail,” Fort Raleigh lead park ranger Josh Nelson told Coastal Review recently. “And then we have some information in the narrative from that person, quotes that have been put together to give us a sense of who they were and what they were doing here.”

Established in April 1941, the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site was expanded in 1990 from its original 178 acres. Of the total 513 acres that currently make up the park, 355 are actively managed. As Nelson explained, the trail reflects Fort Raleigh’s expanded focus beyond 16th century English settlements that Congress authorized in 1990, including the significant Black American, Native American and Civil War history of Roanoke Island.

“So it’s not an immediate thing that’s happened, but it’s been something that the park has been working toward since that change and that I see this trail project is really just a continuation of our attempt at trying to better share that history of the Civil War,” he said. “And in this case, specifically the Freedmen’s Colony and the Underground Railroad history that the site has.”

The seven exhibits along the Freedom Trail will interpret various aspects of the Black experience on Roanoke Island, Nelson explained in an email.

“The African American Freedmen’s Colony is still, thirty years later, an under-represented story at the park and this project will offer visitors a greater understanding of the significance Roanoke Island played in the Underground Railroad network,” he wrote. “Building from the site significance — identified in foundation documents — diverse audiences visiting today will identify with the greater history at Fort Raleigh through the experience of the interpretive trail. The current national dialogue around social justice is rooted in stories incorporated within Fort Raleigh and the project will connect that conversation to the park purpose.”

It wasn’t until a granite monument, the First Light of Freedom, was dedicated at the park on Sept. 14, 2001, that Fort Raleigh included significant recognition of the Freedmen’s Colony.

After the Union Army won the Battle of Roanoke Island in February 1862, formerly enslaved people poured onto the island seeking freedom. Within a year, there were nearly 1,000 refugees, according to Patricia Click’s book, “Time Full of Trial.” By 1865, she wrote, the colony had grown to about 3,500 people.

Although the U.S. government had initially supported Roanoke Island’s Freedmen’s Colony as a model permanent colony of freed Black people, Click wrote, it ultimately was abandoned by the Union and ended March 1867.

“We haven’t identified precisely where the Freedmen’s Colony was, but we do know the area,” Nelson said. “We know that is was in the area where the airport is today on Roanoke Island, and it extended north underneath where the North Carolina Aquarium sits. The heart of it, where a lot of activity was taking place, was just north of that on Sunnyside Road.”

From there, Nelson said, the colony continued north, with three major streets running northwest to southeast following the direction of the island. Recently, the park was “excited” to learn, he said, that the northern boundary of the colony was at Fort Raleigh where the Freedom Trail runs today.

Numerous residents of contemporary Manteo, including the late Virginia Tillett, a longtime public servant in the community, are descendants of the Freedmen’s Colony.

Constructed of half-inch-thick steel, the life-sized silhouettes on the Freedom Trail will be weathered rather than painted, Nelson said. Accounts of the people from the colony were gathered from published accounts, and from newly unearthed documents found during research at the National Archives and the Outer Banks History Center by park volunteer Cathy Steever and Fort Raleigh park ranger Mike Zatarga.

“We’ve been working on this project since August of last year, and that’s including applying for grants … the research, the transcribing,” Nelson said. All told, 350 pages of handwritten documents were transcribed, in-house and by volunteers. Grants were awarded by the Underground Network to Freedom, (about $7,500); the National Park Foundation, (about $42,000); and Outer Banks Forever, ($2,500.)

As described by Nelson in the email, one exhibit will incorporate history of pre-Civil War enslavement in eastern North Carolina, and attempts to seek freedom, interpreted through three silhouettes of Annice Jackson and her two daughters.

The second one, with the silhouette of Thomas Robinson, will discuss the Union army on Roanoke Island and how local enslaved African Americans assisted in the 1862 Union victory on the island.

A third exhibit will highlight education at the Freedmen’s Colony with a silhouette of student Londen Ferebee.

For the fourth exhibit, the role of missionaries in the colony will be highlighted with a silhouette of missionary teacher Sarah Freeman.

The fifth exhibit, with a silhouette of soldier Spencer Gallop, will represent the 220 men from the Freedmen’s Colony who joined the Union army and navy.

The sixth exhibit, with a silhouette of Fanny Whitney, will demonstrate the hard work done alone by the women of colony.

And the seventh exhibit covers the end of the Freedmen’s Colony and the current community’s connection, depicting Orphan Jim facing the sound and the direction that so many traveled to unknown futures.

Nelson said that the silhouettes are based on what people of that age and era were known to wear and look like, but there are no photographs or paintings of the people in the exhibit. The power is in the actual words, of actual people.

“I belonged to a man by the name of Hodges Gallop at Currituck before the war and worked on a farm,” Spencer Gallop, 19, is quoted in his exhibit. “I escaped to Roanoke Island and cut wood and helped build forts for the Yankees. In 1864, my regiment was assigned as guards at a POW camp containing close to 14,000 Confederate soldiers in Point Lookout, Maryland. Then, in the fall, we fought with distinction in the Battle of New Market Heights, Va.”

North Carolina is home to nearly 4,000 species of plants. A small percentage of them, but some of the most unusual, can be found in the Green Swamp Preserve, a 17,424-acre nature preserve managed by The Nature Conservancy.

The Green Swamp Preserve in Brunswick County, about a 40-minute drive southeast of Wilmington, remains closed after a recent wildfire, the result of flames escaping the area of a prescribed burn that was in process in June. The fire spread across most of the preserve, covering nearly 16,000 acres and prompting state air quality alerts.

But once it reopens later this summer, visitors can see 14 species of carnivorous plants, 16 species of native orchids, and other endangered wildflowers on the sun-dappled ground beneath a tall longleaf pine canopy.

The recent blaze was prevented from reaching any nearby private property, and due to the distinctive nature of the fire-adapted longleaf pine ecosystem — and conservancy’s management practices, which included a successful controlled burn in January — it’s more a problem for people who wish to explore the area than the plants that live there.

“There are already grasses popping up in the preserve,” Michelle Ly, conservation coordinator for the conservancy’s southeast coastal plain office, explained last week to Coastal Review. She noted that they expect to see some plant species recovering in areas where they previously had been crowded out by taller vegetation. “This wildfire and burnout will benefit the preserve greatly.”

The Nature Conservancy also hosts a “Fire in the Pines” festival in Wilmington, where visitors can learn how controlled burns help plants and animals in these coastal environments and watch a live demonstration burn. This year’s festival is set for Oct.14.

With the recent containment of the blaze called the Pulp Road fire, conservancy officials and scientists on Thursday led a media tour of a part of the preserve that was unaffected by the most recent fire but that was subjected to the controlled burn in January.

The area of the media tour was lush with color and new growth emerging from the char below.

Protecting star species

The star plant species of the Green Swamp Preserve include a huge range of carnivorous plants: Venus flytraps, sundew, bladderworts, butterworts, and four species of pitcher plants.

The conservancy works to ensure the Green Swamp remains a healthy, balanced ecosystem for these specialized plants. It has taken care of the land since 1977, when the Federal Paper Board Co. gifted it nearly 14,000 acres. The company donated an additional 2,577 acres in the late 1980s. Over time, the conservancy has purchased the rest.

The conservancy’s conservation activities center on the longleaf pines that tower above the understory layer. These trees once covered about 90 million acres of the Southeast, from Virginia to Florida and as far west as Texas. Logging and urban development have shrunk their numbers. Today, slightly more than 5 million acres remain, up from just 3.2 million acres in the early 2000s.

The conservancy has been protecting and restoring longleaf pine ecosystems across the tree’s original range. In Ly’s experience, walking through the Green Swamp is like stepping back in time to a less anthropogenically influenced landscape. Longleaf pine stands are naturally open and were historically maintained by low-intensity natural fires often sparked by lightning strikes.

In the early 1900s, forest management policies changed, ushering in an era of fire suppression. This altered longleaf pine ecosystems and put people and infrastructure in danger of larger, uncontrolled wildfires fueled by newly dense understories.

Now, prescribed fire is once again an important part of longleaf pine management. The conservancy performs controlled burns on regular intervals of three to five years to mimic natural fire regimes.

“Preserving longleaf pine is not just about the tree, it’s about the ecosystem,” Ly explained.

The controlled burns knock back any hardwood trees that have taken root and open the understory, so Venus flytraps, orchids, and other native flora can get the sunlight they need to flourish. These burns are also great for birds and other wildlife that thrive in longleaf ecosystems.

‘An iconic plant’

The conservancy’s website notes the preserve is closed to the public through Aug. 31 as it upgrades the trail, including building a new boardwalk. Don’t let that stop you from planning a trip to visit this fall, though – seeing Venus flytraps in the wild can be a special experience.

“This is such an iconic plant, and there’s just no other place in the world you can see this plant in the wild except here in the Carolinas,” explained botanist and author Scott Zona, who took his first trip to the Green Swamp earlier this year. Zona manages North Carolina State University’s North Carolina Extension Gardener Plant Toolbox and has an appointment at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill Herbarium.

Wild Venus flytraps are only found within about a 75-mile radius of Wilmington.

Venus flytraps catch their prey using special leaves with sensitive hairs called trigger hairs. Once the hairs sense that an insect has landed on the trap, it snaps shut in less than a second. Any further movement of the prey causes the trap to stay clamped tightly shut as it digests the unlucky passerby. If some nonprey item, like a stick, falls onto the trap, it will slowly open back up for the item to be blown away or fall off.

Venus flytraps also have special reproductive adaptations. While their leaves and stems are low to the ground, their white flowers grow on tall stalks stretching about 8 to 12 inches into the air to keep the insects that pollinate them from becoming lunch.   

Zona’s initial visit to the Green Swamp and seeing Venus flytraps in the wild for the first time did not disappoint: “To me, it’s right up there with the first time I went to the Muir Woods in California and saw redwood trees.”

That may be high praise coming from a man who has traveled around the world studying plant ecology and evolution and has a species of palm named after him.

Zona’s colleagues from the United Kingdom, who visited with him, also enjoyed the experience.

“Both of them are very well-respected, well-known botanists who travel the world, and they were just as excited to see these plants as I was,” he said. 

Myriad other fascinating plants also inhabit the Green Swamp. Its purple pitcher plants lack the umbrella-like leaf “hoods” that other pitcher plants have. The preserve also is home to bladderworts, extremely unassuming plants with tiny sacs used to catch prey. Bladderworts are the fastest carnivorous plants in the world, able to trap and eat their prey in less than a millisecond. And the noncarnivorous plants are worth a close look, as well.

“If you’ve never seen native orchids out in the wild, they’re so beautiful and so unique, they’re much different than the ones you see in the grocery store,” Ly said.

While the area’s nutrient-poor and often waterlogged soil might not sound like a great place to be a plant, according to Zona, those are great conditions for Venus flytraps and other carnivorous plants. During the winter they go dormant; in the spring, they revive, unfurling new green leaves. Their diet of insects is an adaptation that helps them make up for the lack of nutrients in the soil.

A 2020 study of the Venus flytrap genome found that the genes associated with flytrap “traps” — the leaves that snap shut on prey — came from copies of genes found in their ancestors’ roots.

The Green Swamp is not only a botanist’s dream, but also a fantastic day trip destination for any nature enthusiast. Zona has just one regret from his trip to the Green Swamp: “We did not have the foresight to pack a lunch with us,” he said. “If we had packed lunch, we could have stayed there even longer.”

Four miles before the eastern end of U.S. Highway 70, there is a right turn that brings travelers across a small bridge and into the town of Beaufort, North Carolina.

Beaufort is humming with activity in all months of the year, whether with government business near the 115-year-old Carteret County courthouse or tourist activity closer to the waterfront. The town has nearly as many restaurants and museums as it has accolades from national magazines.

But for much of its history, Beaufort was almost forgotten. It was a small outpost that represented a bypassed hope for the future of North Carolina. Over the span of a century, Beaufort has turned itself into a center for history, water activities, and environmental study. It has gone on a long journey to become one of the most memorable places on the North Carolina coast.

Beaufort was laid out in 1713 and incorporated in 1723, making it the fourth oldest town in North Carolina. It was part of the English attempt to turn North Carolina into a productive colony. Beaufort was founded near Beaufort Inlet, one of the few longstanding ocean inlets along the Outer Banks. Given the primacy of water transportation at the time, the hope was that ocean-going traffic through Beaufort Inlet would help bring North Carolina the prosperity that Virginia was experiencing at the time through its wide, deep Chesapeake Bay.

Unlike two of the first four towns, Edenton and New Bern, Beaufort remained isolated throughout its first several decades. Edenton was the colonial capital for several decades and close to Tidewater Virginia, while New Bern benefitted from substantial growth in the Neuse and Trent River basins. Beaufort remained isolated, like the original town of Bath, and did not attract settlement to the mainland area of Carteret County. Consequently, the town only had a few dozen people in 1765, according to a French traveler’s account cited in the downtown district’s nomination form to the National Register of Historic Places.

Even after Beaufort grew to a few hundred residents by the first census in 1790, Carteret County was the state’s second-least-populated county in that census and remained one of the 10 smallest for decades. Beaufort also was not as defined by plantation slavery as the other larger, early towns. Despite the lesser reliance on large cotton or tobacco plantations, enslaved people still worked in agriculture and in maritime professions throughout the town and the coastal area of Carteret County.

Despite its small size, Beaufort had several resident political leaders. These included Otway Burns, the famed privateer of the War of 1812, and revolutionary leader William Thompson. Some of these leaders were interred in the Old Burying Ground, one of the state’s oldest cemeteries. According to land records, the earliest potential burial at this Beaufort graveyard dates to 1724. There are dozens of stories about its most notable graves, from the British officer buried standing up (and facing England) to the little girl buried in a barrel of rum.

Another early heritage of Beaufort is its historic houses. The housing landscape in Beaufort today stretches back to the late 18th century. There was once a theory that one of the oldest houses in town, the Hammock House, was built in the early 18th century and was even visited by Blackbeard. Despite its popularity among locals and mid-20th-century writers, this theory is almost certainly false. It would have been difficult for residents so far from centers of commerce and industry to have brought together the materials and expertise to build such a substantial home in the 1710s. Instead, Beaufort’s earliest standing houses were likely built around the 1780s, which still ranks them as some of the oldest in the state.

Beaufort was only of nominal strategic importance during the Civil War. Beaufort Inlet never grew to the size and depth that the town would have required to become a major port. The Union captured the town early in 1862 after subduing nearby Fort Macon and held it for the rest of the war. There were no substantial battles to rival those in important towns like Wilmington, New Bern, or even Plymouth, where the Confederates secured arguably their greatest North Carolina victory in 1864. Instead, Beaufort was taken with almost no effort.

The 20th century was defined by two developments that continue to shape the town to the present day. One was the growth of industry. Beaufort counted a number of businesses by 1916 including two manufacturing plants, two banks, nine building contractors, and eighteen grocers.

The study of marine biology also brought experts and attention to the town. One of the nation’s first centers for the study of marine biology was opened in the Gibbs House by Johns Hopkins in 1880. The Johns Hopkins Seaside Laboratory eventually helped prompt the foundation of the numerous marine labs currently located on Pivers Island, including a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration facility and the Duke University Marine Lab. 

The other major development of the past century, of course, was tourism. With the railroad’s arrival in 1906, travelers began to see the benefits of the quaint coastal town. Beaufort also benefited from having been small throughout the 19th century. Unlike more developed towns such as Elizabeth City or Wilmington, limited growth meant that the town kept its original cityscape. While the town began adding hotels, restaurants, and marinas in the 20th century, it retained its 18th-century homes and street grid. A 1988 report in the New York Times noted, “though surrounded today by modern shipping facilities and undistinguished commercial development, the heart of Beaufort has changed little since it was laid out in 1713.”

One of the legacies of tourism’s impact in the town is its keen interest in historic preservation. It is an attractive place for new homeowners to move in, restore old houses, and showcase those houses to the greater community.

One of these homeowners is Eric Lindstrom, who recently finished renovating the 18^th century Piver House on Ann Street.

Lindstrom had worked on historical rehabs in Fayetteville for many years and had been on the lookout for a historic home project before settling on Beaufort. Lindstrom said that the biggest challenge to this renovation was not material or labor but time.

“The work takes a long time and we wanted to do it right,” he said.

The project included some modernization but also a strenuous effort to retain original material such as period-appropriate windows. With the renovation, Lindstrom joined a community of other historic homeowners in Beaufort who share tips and open up their homes for the Beaufort Historical Association’s annual Old Homes Tour.

Today, Beaufort could be viewed as an economic success story. As of June, it had 21 restaurants, one of the highest totals for any North Carolina town with fewer than 5,000 permanent residents.

Beaufort was voted America’s Coolest Small Town in 2012 and has been featured on HGTV and other television channels. It has also started to work harder to acknowledge its African American history with attention to historic Purvis Church and a regular African American bus history tour.

The town is 7 miles from the nearest beach and yet has the kind of summer traffic that sand-adjacent towns often enjoy.

Beaufort stayed mostly the same for over 100 years, but a combination of economic development, tourist attention, and rising sea levels have made change a reality. Now, Beaufort looks to move beyond its small-town identity as it grapples with this newfound importance in its fourth century of incorporation.

MANTEO — The Juneteenth celebration at the Pea Island Cookhouse Museum was held two days early this year, an event that focused on the African American experience as part of the fabric of our nation and that included the announcement of a new effort to help tell part of the story.

A glimpse into the Freedmen’s Colony experience may soon be brought to life thanks to a planned Fort Raleigh National Historic Site project, Ranger Isabel Gonzalez announced Saturday.

She said that the National Park Service is creating a 1.2-mile interpretive trail to help visitors understand the short-lived colony where formerly enslaved people of Roanoke Island got their first taste of freedom during the Union occupation early in the Civil War.

The trail project planning is still in its earliest stages, Gonzalez noted.

“Right now, there’s nothing out there. If you’re walking on it, you’re going to get bit by mosquitoes and that’s it,” she said.

The work, though, has begun on recreating the history and lives of the people who lived there, and Gonzalez described the stories that will be told along the trail once it is completed.

“We’re going to establish seven outdoor exhibits on the Freedom Trail that talk about not just what life was like in the Freedmen’s Colony but also present individual stories, actual people that lived there, because while we don’t have many pictures, we do have enough narratives to build stories for these individuals, to give them a voice,” she said.

Viewed as different

The Pea Island Cookhouse Museum is a small building on the west side of Manteo that has been meticulously restored and contains memorabilia and artifacts illustrating the Black experience in the U.S. Life-Saving Service. The building was, at one time, the cookhouse for the Pea Island Life-Saving Station, the only all-Black crew in the history of the Life-Saving Service, a tradition that continued even after the service became the U.S. Coast Guard in 1915. The station was deactivated in 1947.

The Pea Island Preservation Society is the organization that moved the cookhouse to Manteo and renovated the building.

During the Juneteenth event featuring lyric tenor and native son Tshombe Selby, a member of the Metropolitan Opera of New York, the society’s outreach director, Joan Collins, described what 19th century life was like for the Black crewmen.

Calling attention to Capt. Richard Etheridge, who in 1880 became the first Black captain of a Life-Saving Station, Collins described his history with the service and how it was defined by race.

“Before the all-Black Pea Island Life-Saving Station was formed, Richard Etheridge himself was part of what was called a checkerboard crew, a lifesaving crew that had both white and Black surfman,” she said.

“Why was there even a need to make a racially mixed station have a different name?” she asked and then answered her question. “Because they were viewed as different. These men frankly existed at a time when being white was right. And being Black meant you were looked at and you were viewed differently. But certainly, the heroes of this history, they were no different than anyone else.”

For Collins, the lessons of the checkerboard crews and the Pea Island Life-Saving Station continue to be relevant to understanding the call to freedom.

“Learn about it, share it, embrace it, challenge others to do the same,” she said. “Learn the powerful stories, the heroic stories, the sad stories, the complicated stories, the hopeful stories, the stories that remind us of the sound of freedom.”

Selby, as the featured performer, began the event with his a cappella interpretation of “The Star Spangled Banner,” staying true to the traditional melody while also displaying his operatic skills, range and nuance.

Performing with pianist John Buford, Selby also performed “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” Written and composed by James Weldon Johnson and his brother, J. Rosamond Johnson in 1900, the song has become known as the African American national anthem.

In past years, Selby’s selections at the Juneteenth Pea Island Cookhouse celebration have focused on traditional spirituals, and some were included this year — “Give Me Jesus” and “He’s Got the Whole World in his Hands” among them. But he also brought more contemporary songs describing the Black experience, including Sam Cooke’s “Long Time Coming” and a rousing arrangement of “I Wish I Knew how It Would Feel to be Free,” a song made famous by Nina Simone.

The day’s events ended with the unveiling of Nags Head artist James Melvin’s most recent painting, “The Freedmen’s School,” depicting children and adults at a Freedmen’s school learning how to read.

NAGS HEAD — Officials last week celebrated the newly renovated visitor center at Jockey’s Ridge State Park, marking the completion of a $2 million project that ran about a year behind schedule.

State officials from Raleigh, as well as local government representatives, park staff and members of the nonprofit Friends of Jockey’s Ridge, which supports the park, were on hand May 25 for the ribbon-cutting ceremony on the visitor center’s back deck.

It was an unusually cool and blustery day for late May, courtesy of a coastal low swirling in the Atlantic Ocean. The weather underscored the importance of the project. Several who spoke told the crowd of more than 90 that the expanded and upgraded visitor center provides an educational atmosphere in which visitors can also briefly escape the Outer Banks’ sometimes harsh elements.

The 426-acre state park, situated on a thin strip of sand between the ocean and the Roanoke Sound, contains the tallest living sand dune system on the East Coast.

“This is already such an iconic park,” said D. Reid Wilson, secretary of the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources. “People, if you mention Jockey’s Ridge, go, ‘Oh yeah, I love it.’ Everybody has stories about this amazing place.”

Wilson continued, “But now the visitor experience will be even better. People will be able to come in here, get out of the sun a little bit, get out of the wind, and learn a lot more than they could before in just a beautiful, beautiful facility. So, congratulations to all who made that happen.”

The $2,048,463 project began in June 2021, with an expected completion date of April 2022. The work, which included renovating the building’s lobby, exhibit hall and meeting room, as well as installing electric vehicle chargers in the parking area, was just finished in April this year.

Park Superintendent Joy Greenwood said the delay was partly because of having to wait on federal flood maps to be approved and because of materials supply chain issues.

Jockey’s Ridge State Park boasts the second state park visitor center to be built in North Carolina, but the structure had not been updated in any major way since its completion in 1998, she said.

Officials said the renovation improved the flow of foot traffic throughout the visitor center and added 1,000 square feet of space. “The lobby is twice as big as it was originally,” Greenwood said, describing how cramped people had been in both the lobby and in the exhibit hall before.

The exhibit hall “has totally been gutted and redone,” she added. The educational exhibits hadn’t been upgraded since around 2002.

“There was an exhibit on hurricanes, and the last one on the list was in 2001,” she said. “The exhibits were so old and people had touched them so much that the writing had worn off.”

The meeting room similarly underwent a conversion into a more open, better lit, “usable space,” she said. Before, it was an infrequently used dark room with a heavy, wooden door.

Connect NC bond funding, which state voters approved in 2016, paid for most of the project, with supplemental funding from the state Parks and Recreation Trust Fund.

“Every park has a new facility or a new land acquisition that was started in 2016 with the Connect NC bond,” Brian Strong, interim director of the North Carolina Division of Parks and Recreation, said during the ceremony.

Jockey’s Ridge was the most-visited state park in 2021, with 1.8 million visitors, and it consistently ranks as one of the most-visited North Carolina parks.

“We get well over a million people here every year, and I’m excited that these new facilities will really help to enhance those visits, (and) help people to understand how important this natural resource is,” Strong said.

Strong thanked the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge “for all of the hard work you guys have done; you have put in some amazing hours.” He also thanked members for their advocacy on behalf of the park, both within the community and to elected officials.

The nonprofit was founded in 1990, explained Mike O’Brien, Friends of Jockey’s Ridge board chair, during his remarks. “Our mission is tosupport, enhance and promote Jockey’s Ridge as a significant geological feature on the Outer Banks of North Carolina.”

Led by Executive Director Robin Hallac, the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge acquired a tourism grant for a utility terrain vehicle, or UTV, for the park, which has provided 125 dune rides to 341 individuals so far for this year, O’Brien said.

The nonprofit’s work today continues efforts that began with the Junior Friends of Jockey’s Ridge: “The first budget was a brochure written by children for children,” O’Brien said, noting that their second project was creating “Tracks in the Sand,” a trail to the sound that still exists. “Then they built the boardwalk, which we still have today.”

George Barnes, the first superintendent for Jockey’s Ridge State Park, is a longtime Friends board member who said he helped shape the organization. In his 32 years as superintendent, “I saw a lot of things that we needed to do and we couldn’t get money for it, like that boardwalk out there,” Barnes said at the reception following the ribbon cutting.

The Junior Friends of Jockey’s Ridge and the newly formed adult Friends contingent, along with two area contractors who donated their time, built the 340-foot boardwalk with lumber donated from lumber companies, Barnes recalled. Even some visitors who were passing by and asking what was happening ended up lending a hand and helping build part of it.

Everyone’s efforts about 30 years ago resulted in a more accessible way for more people to enjoy the park to this day — “and it didn’t cost the state one dime.”

Barnes was enthusiastic about the renovation and said he thought children would be, too.

“We used to have like a little magnifying glass (through which) you could look at a grain of sand and see it. They’ve got this thing now where you can look at it and blow it up on that big screen,” he said, gesturing toward a microscope focused on grains of sand by a projection screen in the community room.

“Kids see that kind of stuff and think, ‘That’s what we’re here for,’” he continued. “Let them learn about what it is here, and why it’s here, and why it stays and why it moves away. It’s a living sand dune.”

Tim Rayworth, an interpretive designer for North Carolina State Parks, chatted with guests in the community room during the reception. He and other staff began work on the new exhibits over four years ago.

“We started by working with the staff and talking about what important stories were here, and then distilling that down into a few big ideas,” Rayworth said.

Those “big ideas” included the park’s three habitats: the dunes, the maritime forest and the estuary, “because that’s often overlooked.”

The new educational exhibits “spilled into the lobby” as the park’s origin story of concerned residents banding together, raising money and lobbying the state became a feature in the lobby.

“We’ve got some parks that have really interesting stories,” he opined. “This is among one of the more interesting ones. It was really a grassroots thing … the community rose to bring it together.”

The first state park, Mount Mitchell, was created in 1915. “There’s really nobody around anymore” who could share firsthand accounts of that or of other early state parks.

But crafting the exhibit about the efforts that led to the 1975 establishment of Jockey’s Ridge State Park underscored a difference.

“Here, it’s not history,” Rayworth said. “It’s living memory for a lot of people.”

For Ann-Cabell Baum, whose mother Carolista Baum famously initiated actions to preserve the dunes, it’s an indelible part of her childhood.

During her remarks at the ceremony, Ann-Cabell Baum recalled playing on the sand dunes every day during the summer with her two younger siblings. “One afternoon, we were coming back across and there was a bulldozer. And then guess what? We ran home and told our mom.” She’d promptly marched over to confront the driver, who stopped.

“I would have stopped too,” Baum quipped. “If you knew my mom, you would have done what she said. And later that evening, she went back and took the distributor cap off so they could not complete the work.”

Baum thanked everyone “for the hard work that’s gone into this gorgeous building.” She also shared a reminder: “We have an incredible legacy with this natural resource behind us, and … it’s our responsibility every day to make sure that it is here for generations to come.”

Just last fall, Baum followed in her mother’s footsteps and spearheaded efforts to that effect when a section of the park was threatened with potential development. Plans surfaced of a private, for-profit museum that was proposed to be built on park land with a free 99-year lease. Baum crafted a petition, collected more than 2,500 signatures and, along with the Friends, shared concerns with state and local officials. State officials in late October decided to decline to lease the land.

In an interview during the reception, Wilson appeared to give a nod to those events.

“It’s just a really special place, and when you consider how hard the Friends of Jockey’s Ridge works to support this park, you realize how invested the community is in its success,” he said. “These are tenacious people.”

For her part, also at the reception, Baum said that members of the Friends “are awesome. They really dug in, and when they needed to be there, they were there and made things happen. And reminded everybody why we all love this place.”

She added, “It’s my favorite place on Earth.”

OCRACOKE VILLAGE — As islanders and National Park Service personnel have been busy in recent weeks preparing to celebrate Thursday the 200^th anniversary of the Ocracoke Lighthouse, the beacon stands as a stoic symbol of the very island itself: sturdy, enduring and vulnerable.

For those not already on the island, the Ocracoke Light Station 200^th anniversary event set for 1-2 p.m. Thursday will be livestreamed on Facebook by Outer Banks Forever, the Cape Hatteras National Seashore’s official philanthropic partner.

The nation’s second oldest continually operated lighthouse, a cherished centerpiece of the village, was damaged when an astounding 7-foot surge of water from the Pamlico Sound was blasted ashore by Hurricane Dorian Sept. 6, 2019. Villagers called it the worst flooding in memory, 2 feet higher than ever before.

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After two years of planning by Cape Hatteras National Seashore, including community meetings, discussions and review, the Ocracoke Light Station Preservation Project has been approved and funded. A contractor to work on the chosen alternative, which involves mostly elevation of the keepers’ quarters and repair of the lighthouse, is expected to be selected later this year.

Congress appropriated $2 million to the National Park Service in September to renovate and repair the Ocracoke Light Station.

“Most everybody, like 98%, thinks they’re doing what the community wants them to do, as a whole,” John Simpson, an 11^th generation Ocracoker, told Coastal Review.

The station’s 75-foot-tall Ocracoke Lighthouse, oil house, keepers’ quarters and ancillary buildings were completed in 1823.

An early option to relocate the lighthouse station — an idea Simpson said was more rumor than an actual consideration — was immediately tossed.

“I don’t think, personally, that was ever brought to a meaningful discussion,” he said. “You talk about a rebellion — the lighthouse means a lot to the folks that live there.”

When Simpson was in high school, his father retired from the Coast Guard and his family moved into the house his mother had inherited that was situated “due north along the creek on the Silver Lake side.”

Nearly every night, unless it was foggy, the beam of the lighthouse shined into his window, he recalled fondly.

“It was like a nightlight,” he said.

Many people on the island have their own personal connections to the lighthouse.

For Simpson, he is proud that his great-grandfather Joseph M. Burrus, known as “Cap’n Joe,” served there as a light keeper from 1929 to 1946. A Hatteras native, he decided to build a house on Ocracoke Island after retiring from 45 years in the U.S. Lifesaving Service. For a while when his father was young, Simpson said that his father and his family had lived in the keepers’ quarters with Cap’n Joe.

Simpson recalled a story his father had told him about the Great Atlantic Hurricane in September 1944, which until Dorian, he said, was the “benchmark storm for Ocracoke.”

“My dad said, ‘Son, I would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,’” he recounted. “Across the street was a wooden skiff with a pig and three adults in it. The water picked up that wooden boat, brought it over the (lighthouse station) fence, put it in the yard and left them there high and dry.”

Dorian’s tide was 11 inches higher than that devastating 1944 storm.

Along with nearly every vehicle and building in the village, the entire light station was flooded. The grounds and walkways were completely submerged, and the base of the lighthouse, the double keepers’ quarters and five outbuildings were inundated with as much as 24 inches of brackish water.

“There was 18 inches of floodwater in the old keepers’ quarters,” Cape Hatteras National Seashore Superintendent Dave Hallac said in March 2021, months after Hurricane Dorian. “The shed got lifted up and floated off from the foundation.”

But the Ocracoke Light Station, which was added in 1977 to the National Register of Historic Places, is barely above sea level and situated next to a marsh. Its water table is so high that it is technically considered a wetland. Unless there is a dry spell, the station’s lawn is mushy and often impossible to walk on without getting wet feet.

“I’ve only been superintendent for six years and it’s flooded or practically flooded three times,” Hallac added.

With Dorian, the water roared through the station at a height of 6.7 feet above mean sea level.

“It came up super fast and it went down super fast,” the superintendent said while showing the damage at the site in February 2022. “But the damage was done.”

The power and water pedestals were all destroyed, requiring replacements of everything. The interior of the structure had to be cleaned of mold and dried out. Floorboards had to be removed. The wallboard had to be ripped out. Heating and air conditioning units were flooded; the new ones were installed higher. Thirteen park service vehicles were flooded.

“Nothing escaped the flood from Dorian,” Hallac said.

In addition to the chosen alternative from the environmental assessment approved in August, the park service had proposed simply following the existing management plan to repair storm damage, or removing the double keepers’ quarters and replacing it with a ghost structure that mimicked the existing building.

Regardless of the alternative chosen, the shotcrete on the lighthouse’s exterior bricks was slated to be replaced with a breathable coating; damaged masonry would be replaced; existing windows would be repaired or replaced with historically appropriate windows; leaks at the top of the lantern would be fixed; the interior would be repainted or recoated; and the original stone foundation would be exposed.

As Hallac noted during public presentations and discussions, the situation with ongoing and increasing sea level rise will increase flood risks on the island, including at the light station. 

Recent data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration indicates that the mid-range rate of sea level rise in Ocracoke is 1.14 feet in 2030, 1.8 feet in 2040 and 2.5 feet in 2050.

“This is not storms, this is not king tides, this is just everyday tides,” Hallac said.

In discussions about sea level rise, he added, people often focus on what is going to happen in the future. “And I say, ‘No — it’s happening now.’”

Simpson said he and most other folks on the island understand that the environment is changing, but preserving what they can is important. “Still, Ocracokers are used to doing the best they can with what they’ve got,” he said.

Going back centuries, adaptation is built into the mindset of islanders.

As he sees it, the Ocracoke Lighthouse embodies the heritage and deep roots of the island community. With the stout white tower still keeping watch over the village after two centuries of wars and storms while blinking its welcome to boats coming into Silver Lake Harbor, islanders have to believe that they — and the lighthouse — will continue to survive.

“You hope and pray you never get that one shot that devastates everything,” Simpson said. “This is our little cubicle of life. We live and die by the weather conditions.”

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Wilmington is one of North Carolina’s best-known cities. Visitors to the state’s southern beaches pass through the city at the eastern end of Interstate 40. Many may be familiar with the Battleship North Carolina Memorial, or films and TV shows shot in the area, or some of the famous people who have called New Hanover County and its biggest city home.

Behind these relatively recent attributes and trivia are nearly three centuries of historic development.

Scenic Wilmington also is one of the state’s most historically important, in both a positive light and as the site of one of the darkest moments in North Carolina history.

Following the Tuscarora War in the early 1700s, English settlers began to move south and west throughout the area once occupied by that powerful Native American group. One of the earliest settlements was in present-day Brunswick County on the western bank of the Cape Fear River. The pre-Revolutionary success of that settlement, known as Brunswick Town, helped inspire a number of settlements on the eastern side as well.

Families such as the Moseleys, Swanns and Moores claimed large land grants and founded sizable plantations. As Lawrence Lee noted in his history of New Hanover County, “They were men of wealth and position who brought their families and slaves and settled on large plantations.” They grew rice and corn and harvested naval stores. The navigable Cape Fear River allowed them to quickly transport their products to market and become relatively wealthy as a result.

Early settlement led to a new county to facilitate commerce and ease legal burdens. In 1729, New Hanover County was formed from the southeast portion of Craven County. It was named after the House of Hanover, the German royal family that ruled England at the time. The county originally stretched westward to the extent of settlement and northward to the White Oak River, according to archivist and historian David Leroy Corbitt.

One important action by these early settlers was to form a town on the eastern bank of the Cape Fear River 30 miles north of its mouth. This town, first called New Carthage, soon became known as Newton. It was finally incorporated in 1760 and named Wilmington after the then-governor’s patron, Spencer Compton, Earl of Wilmington. Its potential as a major political center in North Carolina was clear by the 1740s, after it was made the county seat of New Hanover County. 

Wilmington soon became one of the most important cities in North Carolina. It was a center for patriotic sentiment during the Revolution and was home to Cornelius Harnett, the first leader of the state’s Committee of Safety.

Later in the war, the Burgwin-Wright House on Market Street in downtown Wilmington, now a museum, served as a headquarters for Charles Cornwallis as he planned the campaign that ended at Yorktown. The war also resulted in the burning and abandonment of Brunswick Town, which was never rebuilt and led to further growth for Wilmington and the upper Cape Fear.

The 18th and 19th centuries saw a number of changes in the boundaries of New Hanover County. It was first reduced because its enormous size had made travel to the court difficult. Onslow, Duplin, Bladen, and Brunswick were all formed from New Hanover between 1734 and 1764.

Later in the 19th century, the county shrank further with the formation of Pender County. Pender’s creation was less about helping local farmers and more about minimizing the political importance of New Hanover County, which by that time was a center of African American political power.

The resulting area was dominated by Wilmington. The city grew by nearly 10 times between 1800 and 1870. It was the largest city in North Carolina between 1830 and 1910 and became a center of political and cultural importance.

The city was home to several early leaders such as signer of the Declaration of Independence William Hooper, Gov. Edward B. Dudley and Congressman Timothy Bloodworth. Its importance in cultural matters was established by the construction of Thalian Hall, one of the first theatrical venues in the state.

During the Civil War, Wilmington became a nationally important site of blockade running. The city was a destination for ships travelling to and from Europe, particularly after the fall of the ports of New Orleans, Louisiana, and Mobile, Alabama. Ships could quickly transport international goods to the city, where they could travel up the Wilmington and Weldon Railroad to supply Confederate armies in Virginia.

This economic activity was protected by Fort Fisher, an earthen fort known as the “Gibraltar of the South” for its ability to withstand Union cannonades. Fort Fisher survived a substantial assault in December 1864 before being taken over by a Union force of more than 10,000 soldiers and sailors a month later. Many historians consider this event to have heralded the end of the war three months later.

Following the war, Wilmington became a center of civil rights struggles and racial violence in North Carolina. The population was majority African American and the city became a Republican stronghold. One of its local leaders, Daniel Russell, a white Republican, was elected governor in 1896. The city had a biracial city council in the late 19th century and an African American-owned newspaper, The Daily Record, the only one in the country, according to David Cecelski and Timothy Tyson.

This political power was shattered in the 1898 Wilmington insurrection. Following a monthslong white supremacy campaign by state Democrats, a group of local white men led by Alfred Moore Waddell armed themselves, attacked the city’s African American residents and burned the offices of The Daily Record. They sought to lynch the newspaper’s publisher Alexander Manly and killed dozens of African Americans and forced hundreds of others to flee the city. The group also forced out the city council and replaced it with a group led by Waddell.

This usurpation remains the only successful coup d’état in American history. African Americans were soon restricted from voting and numerous social activities by the state’s new white supremacist legislature. Wilmington’s African American population decreased by thousands over the next two decades, partially because of the Great Migration and partially due to the memory of the 1898 insurrection.

The 20th century saw continued growth and development in New Hanover County, particularly for the county’s white population. Wilmington became a center for industry and the home of large companies like the pharmaceutical company PPD and Reeds Jewelers. It was bolstered by the construction of two bridges across the Cape Fear River, one in 1919 that was replaced in 1969 and another in 1980.

A new courthouse was built in 1892 at 316 Princess St., and a steel-frame skyscraper, the Murchison Building, was completed in 1914 at the corner of Front and Chestnut streets.

This period was also the beginning of substantial development on New Hanover County’s coast. A trolley line was built to Wrightsville Beach in the early 20th century. This line allowed tourists from Wilmington and beyond to enjoy the island’s beaches. The same process helped develop the other beaches of what became known as Pleasure Island, most notably Carolina Beach and Kure Beach.

The late 20th century was the heyday of movie production in Wilmington. The city was the site of the De Laurentiis Entertainment Group, a film production company that was eventually bought by Carolco Pictures. These companies took advantage of loans and incentives offered by the state government and continued operating in Wilmington for decades. Well-known films shot in Wilmington include “Blue Velvet,” “The Crow,” and more recently, “Iron Man 3.” While De Laurentiis Entertainment Group and Carolco are no more, several film studios still operate in the area, including Screen Gem Studios and Dark Horse Studios.

Wilmington is one of the state’s largest and most economically successful cities. This status has resulted in numerous well-known people calling the city home. One of the most famous is probably Michael Jordan, who was born in Brooklyn but his family moved to Wilmington when he was a small child and lived in the area until Jordan was drafted from the University of North Carolina by the Chicago Bulls in 1984. Other famous area residents include country music legend Charlie Daniels, broadcaster Charles Kuralt, and Sammy Davis, father of the famous singer and entertainer Sammy Davis Jr.

Wilmington has emerged from industrial and agricultural decline faster than nearly any other coastal area over the past two decades. It has reinvented its downtown with restaurants, shops in repurposed warehouses, and events such as ghost tours. The city is now a home of research thanks to several large local companies and UNC-Wilmington.

It is also becoming a cultural center for both the region and the state with the Battleship North Carolina and events such as the annual Azalea Festival, which is scheduled for Wednesday through Sunday.

Wilmington has embraced its public role in part by turning a critical light on its past. After decades of suppression, the city finally acknowledged the Wilmington insurrection before its 100th anniversary in 1998. There is now a memorial park dedicated to its victims.

Today, Wilmington is a center of tourism and economic development for the region. Like other coastal cities, residents are dealing with rising sea levels and the effects of sprawl. Wilmington’s expansion has led to substantial growth in nearby towns as area workers move farther out to find lower housing costs.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Visitors to the Crystal Coast often stop at the scenic town of Swansboro on their way down to Beaufort or Atlantic Beach. This town has become associated with the beaches and hamlets that have made Carteret County famous, but Swansboro is actually part of neighboring Onslow County, an area better known for its sprawling Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune than for its history or beaches.

From colonial leaders and war heroes to its miles of barrier islands and maritime forests, Onslow County may deserve greater recognition as a tourist destination along the North Carolina coast.

Onslow County was formed through the same migration that established other southeastern counties such as New Hanover and Pender. Following the Tuscarora War, English settlers moved north from South Carolina and south from the Albemarle region to settle near the Cape Fear River. These settlers used the river both for personal transportation and to carry their agricultural products and naval stores to oceangoing vessels. But the Cape Fear was not the only river in the region that afforded these benefits. Two others were the White Oak River and the New River, shorter than the Cape Fear but also deep and with its own stable inlet.

The presence of these rivers was a major impetus for the early formation of Onslow County. The first counties in North Carolina were wide tracts of land that sometimes extended for dozens or hundreds of miles. New settlers worked their way down major rivers and creeks from the first ports or towns. Eventually, these settlers found themselves several hours or days away from their courthouse and petitioned the colony for a new county. In 1734, this process occurred in the northeastern section of New Hanover County near New and White Oak Rivers, and a new county was formed.

The new county was named after Arthur Onslow, a powerful English politician and longtime speaker of the British House of Commons, as noted by historian David Leroy Corbitt.

The greater White Oak and New River areas became a locus for settlement in the mid-18th century. Families such as the Starkeys, Warburtons, and Grants reached the area and set up small settlements and plantations. By the late 18th century, the area had its first significant town. Swansboro was established in 1783 and named for Samuel Swann, one of the colony’s most accomplished political leaders. He served as speaker of the Colonial Assembly and was a member of William Byrd’s 1728 expedition to survey the boundary line between North Carolina and Virginia, according to the N.C. Highway Historic Marker program.

The antebellum period was one of exciting changes for Onslow County. Early in the 19th century, one of the county’s most famous historical figures made his name on the high seas. Otway Burns was a local shipbuilder and politician. At the beginning of the War of 1812, he became a privateer and commanded a ship, the Snap Dragon, which captured a number of prizes in the Caribbean and off Nova Scotia before being captured itself in 1814. Burns later built the first steamship in North Carolina. He died in 1850, and his grave in Beaufort is currently marked by a memorial topped with a cannon. A statue of Burns stands in Bicentennial Park in Swansboro. 

A few decades later, the population of Onslow County expanded to the southwest. Residents founded a new town at the site of the old courthouse on New River. Established in 1849 and named after the former president, Jacksonville was much smaller than Swansboro throughout its early history. It is home to the Pelletier House, named after turpentine magnate Rufus Ferrand Pelletier. This house, known for the spring in the backyard and its overarching porch, is the oldest structure in Jacksonville, according to the house’s National Register nomination.

The founding of Jacksonville only slightly affected the modest growth of the county. Onslow County’s population increased by about 50% between 1810 and 1860. What wealth the county had was a result of exploitation from slavery, with over 40% of the county’s population enslaved in 1860, according to the Hergesheimer map.

The Civil War mainly bypassed Onslow County. The Union was more interested in Fort Macon to the north and the greater Cape Fear area to the south. But there was some action in Swansboro and on the county’s barrier islands. County historian Alan Watson noted that after 1862 the White Oak River “constituted the division between the Union-occupied area in eastern North Carolina and the Cape Fear defense district of the Confederacy.”

Following the war, Onslow County was part of the 3rd Congressional District, which was at one time represented by Daniel Russell, a future Republican governor. After numerous fits and starts, a substantial railroad finally reached the county in 1891, according to Watson. The new railroad, which connected Jacksonville to Wilmington — and later New Bern — led to the formation of towns Holly Ridge and Verona.

During the early 20th century, Jacksonville continued its slow growth, with the Onslow County Courthouse that stands today — with renovations — being built in 1904. The entire region received a jolt in 1942 with the founding of Camp Lejeune. This Marine Corps base, one of the largest in the country, was located near Jacksonville because of the area’s water accessibility, cheap land, and barrier islands that were perfect for amphibious landings. It was named after John A. Lejeune, a longtime Marine Corps commandant.

Construction of the base also led to the end of the small New River village of Marines, which was swallowed up by the base and whose residents were forced to move. Camp Lejeune played a pivotal role in training and military preparations for both the Second World War and the Vietnam War. After 9/11, the base closed to civilian traffic along N.C. Highway 172, cutting off the small community of Sneads Ferry from the northern approach to Swansboro and Carteret County.

The development of Camp Lejeune has dominated much of Onslow County since the mid-20th century. Jacksonville continues to grow and has gained a variety of businesses such as international restaurants, used bookstores and a mall. Surrounding towns and communities have experienced a massive increase in population. The community of Sneads Ferry has had to adapt to new housing development and a sprawling business district on Highway N.C. 210, challenging its historic identity as a quaint fishing village.

The county’s periphery has had its own developments during the past five decades. Swansboro has benefited from its proximity to the Carteret County beaches. It is a center for historic homes and hosts the Mullet Festival, an annual tradition celebrating fishing and the completion of the White Oak River bridge, according to Carolina Coast Online. There has also been a considerable amount of nature-related tourism to the county. This natural tourism has extended back decades. Hammocks Beach State Park, founded in 1961, was one of the few state parks established for African Americans prior to park integration in 1964. 

Jacksonville and the small towns throughout the rest of Onslow County have been home to several remarkable people. These include former governor Edward B. Dudley, University of North Carolina sports announcer Jones Angell, former Notre Dame football coach Tyrone Willingham and astronaut Christina Koch. There was also Art Bell, a broadcaster and conspiracy theorist who founded the radio show “Coast to Coast A.M.”

The 21st century has brought new challenges to the county. County officials have had to contend with rising sea levels and eroding beaches, most notably at the northern end of Topsail Island. Camp Lejeune is still dealing with a contaminated water crisis that has made national headlines. But tourism is still booming, and the military base continues to bring new residents, jobs and funding.

Carp removal. Sedimentation reduction. Regrowth of underwater vegetation.

Years of cooperative groundwork between individuals and agencies will soon translate into visible projects to restore Lake Mattamuskeet’s water quality.

And that, in turn, could benefit all area residents — human and wildlife.

Located on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula, Lake Mattamuskeet covers about 40,000 acres and is the largest natural lake in North Carolina. County residents point to the lake as the center of Hyde County, both geographically and culturally.

Related: Inner coast: Lake Mattamuskeet draws outdoor enthusiasts

Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge, established in 1934, comprises the lake and 10,000 acres of surrounding land. It’s an important overwintering site for migratory waterfowl along the Atlantic Flyway and a year-round habitat for many other species. The county is known as a hunting, fishing and bird-watching destination and for its rich farmland.

Hyde County, the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service and the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission contracted with the North Carolina Coastal Federation, publisher of Coastal Review, to develop the nearly 200-page Lake Mattamuskeet Watershed Restoration Plan, which was finalized in 2018 and approved by the state in 2019.

The plan names three interconnected goals: To protect the current way of life; to actively manage the lake’s water level; and to restore the lake’s water quality and clarity.

The plan was developed with input from a stakeholder team that included area residents, local government officials, graduate students, university professors, refuge staff and the Mattamuskeet Technical Working Group, a joint effort between Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge and the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission.

“Everyone wants to see that lake cleaned up,” said Wendy Stanton, technical working group co-chair and acting refuge manager for Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge in Columbia.

Stanton called the lake “out of balance,” explaining that everyone is “trying to restore that balance” so it can again become “a healthy aquatic ecosystem.”

After about six years of the team meeting to address the problem from various angles, “it’s encouraging that their stamina and enthusiasm for the effort is still there. That speaks volumes to the care and concern and love that everybody has for this lake,” said Erin Fleckenstein, oyster program director for the Coastal Federation. She helped coordinate the development of the watershed restoration plan.

“Most local stakeholders have very fond memories of boating, fishing and crabbing on the lake. It’s part of their history, as well as their community’s history,” she continued.

Officials involved in the restoration efforts point to the growth of submerged aquatic vegetation, also called SAV or seagrass, as both a main goal and as an indicator of success.

Monitoring by the Fish and Wildlife Service initially noted seagrass declines in the late 1980s. By 2017, no plants could be found during the refuge’s annual SAV survey.

For aquatic plant life to return, two actions are required, according to Stanton: carp removal and the reduction of sediments being put into the lake.

The restoration plan calls for the removal of 5 million pounds of invasive common carp from the lake. Each adult fish weighs 4 to 5 pounds, Stanton said. Carp are bottom feeders, and their rooting for food also results in ripping up vegetation.

Human activities also must change. Fertilizer, fossil fuels, wastewater, stormwater and pet manure can cause “nutrient pollution” — excess nitrogen and phosphorus — in nearby waters, according to the Environmental Protection Agency.

These sediments reduce water clarity, blocking sunlight from reaching the bottom, and aquatic vegetation cannot grow without sunlight, officials note on the agency’s website.

The overabundance of suspended nitrogen and phosphorus solids in Lake Mattamuskeet also contributes to blooms of phytoplankton and cyanobacteria, which “outcompete SAV,” according to the Fish and Wildlife Service website.

Cyanobacteria’s adverse effects extend beyond harming plant life.

As a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention “Harmful Algal Bloom Advisory” sign posted near a Lake Mattamuskeet culvert notes, “Cyanobacteria (blue-green algae) can produce toxins that can cause serious illness in animals and humans.”

Lake Mattamuskeet is currently considered a phytoplankton-cyanobacteria-dominated system. Once the shift from an aquatic plant-dominated system to an algae-dominated one like this occurs, “it takes a lot of work to return the system,” said Kelly Davis, who owns land adjacent to the lake and worked as the longtime refuge biologist.

She’s implementing a water-control project on her property to change the direction of runoff from her farmland. Instead of allowing gravity to carry runoff, which invariably includes some sediment, to the lake, she’s diverting it to the woodland area of her property.

Davis acknowledged that her actions alone will not clean the lake, but putting water management on her farm is one of many positive steps that area residents are taking.

“You take little bites of a big problem,” Davis stated. “It’s exciting to be working toward improving it.”

Davis’ project was already being designed prior to the restoration plan’s development, but that plan may involve similar water-control projects on other properties.

Although not yet finalized, one involves replumbing a private landowner’s drainage to move through restored wetlands instead of discharging into coastal waters, Fleckenstein said. Smaller projects with individual landowners like these may eventually serve as models for others in the county or in the 55,000-acre watershed, she added.

Larger-scale projects are being developed simultaneously. The Coastal Federation has worked on behalf of the county to help orchestrate some engineering, surveying and permitting work on those, Fleckenstein said. Multiple grants are involved in work toward the plan goals.

Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge already has been working on better water quality control in its waterfowl impoundments, which are areas managed specifically for waterfowl, according to Stanton.

For any such effort, large-scale or small-scale, the key is to slow down the movement of water draining into the lake, so sediment has time to settle and not as much enters the lake, Davis explained.

Another necessary task is regularly clearing excess sediment from the four main canals that link the lake to the Pamlico Sound. The lake’s water level has been passively managed by the wind since the canals were built with one-way gates allowing drainage into the sound, Davis said.

As the restoration plan document states: “Rising sea levels and siltation of the main canals connecting the lake to the Pamlico Sound are thought to be contributing factors in the decline of drainage function, and those conditions are anticipated to exacerbate flooding in the future.”

And when the surrounding land floods, landowners sometimes use pumps to push the water off their properties. That accelerated velocity gives sediment less of a chance to fall out of the water before it ends up back in the lake, Davis noted.

But with the widespread support of the community, the restoration plan will disrupt that negative chain reaction.

Some changes are already underway.

Signs are going up at each of the five culverts that run beneath N.C. Highway 94 and connect the east and west sides of the lake warning of possible temporary closures for recreational fishing when carp removal efforts begin, Stanton said.

And that could be soon.

“We expect to receive that money any day now,” Stanton said on Feb. 24 of a $1 million large invasive species grant the Fish and Wildlife Service awarded the technical working group.

As soon as the money is available, the group will publicize the contract and accept bids. She estimates most carp will be removed within the next two years.

“Whoever the vendor is, they get to keep the carp,” she said. “They can dispose of them or use the various markets as they see fit.”

Carp are in demand as a food source in markets in New York and elsewhere, Stanton noted. Another option might be stocking catch-and-release fishing ponds on the western side of the state. When a prior, effective, large-scale carp removal program took place at the lake in the 1940s and 1950s, that is where most carp ended up, Stanton said.

Other steps have already been taken to address the carp problem. Barriers were installed at the tide gates in March 2021. Flat metal bars two inches apart prevent adult carp from entering the lake, while still allowing native fish species and blue crabs to pass back and forth from the sound, Stanton said.

This will also be the third year that the state Wildlife Resources Commission has stocked the lake with bluegills, a native fish species known for its voracious appetite for carp eggs and carp larvae, around the mid-May carp spawning season.

“A lot of people like fishing bluegills, too, so it not only helps us reduce the carp, but also provides recreational fishing opportunities,” Stanton noted.

For more information about the restoration projects, visit www.fws.gov/project/lake-mattamuskeet-aquatic-grass-restoration and www.nccoast.org/protect-the-coast/stormwater/lake-mattamuskeet-watershed-restoration/.

SUFFOLK, Va. – William Byrd, a Colonial-era surveyor and satirist who in 1728 established the dividing line between southeast Virginia and northeast North Carolina, is credited with blessing the Great Dismal Swamp with its evocative and ominous name.

The million or so acres, he wrote, had air “infected by malignant vapours” rising from “mire and filthiness.” It was, he declared, a “miserable morass” of spongey land, twisted vines and thick undergrowth.

“They started at the Atlantic Ocean and ran into an impenetrable wall of vegetation,” Chris Lowie, the manager of the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge, related in a recent interview. “And he didn’t even go through it. He told the crew it was the most god-awful dismal place, not fit for anybody.”

Byrd, who died in 1744 at 70, wrote several publications, the “Dividing Line Histories,” “Description of the Dismal, with the Proposal to drain the swamp,” and the somewhat satirical “The Secret History of the Line, “providing in-depth details of his impressions, as well as insights about early 18th-century history.

But three centuries later, Byrd’s vivid assessment of the Colonial-era swamplands, though a nonstarter for today’s tourism brochures, fortunately is part of the reason the Dismal Swamp is currently being considered for designation as a National Heritage Area.

The legislation that directs the secretary of interior to conduct a feasibility study has been passed in Congress and added to the study list, Lowie said. A report with recommendations is due to Congress within three years.

National Heritage Areas, which are administered by the National Park Service, engage communities in collaborative heritage preservation activities that are relevant to its needs and interests. Programs are community-driven and focused on conservation, preservation and economic development.

It is also a unique ecosystem, deserving of appreciation as well as protection.

The Great Dismal Swamp can boast of a cypress and cedar forest where at least 47 species of mammals and more than 200 species of birds breed or stop by during their migration, according to a February 2021 blog on The Wilderness Society website.

In addition to its prolific populations of biting insects, it also attracts dozens of species of butterfly. The swamp also harbors venomous snakes like rattlesnakes and water moccasins, but the same tannic acid from the cypress and gum trees that darkens the water also makes the water exceptionally pure. And its mucky peat soil holds tons of carbon dioxide, helping to mitigate carbon emissions in the atmosphere, a prime cause of climate change.

“National Heritage Areas are places where historic, cultural, and natural resources combine to form cohesive, nationally important landscapes,” according to its website. “Unlike national parks, National Heritage Areas are large lived-in landscapes.”

At about 113,000 acres, the refuge is the largest remaining intact area of the once-vast Dismal Swamp.

Historically, the swamp ranged from the James River to the Albemarle Sound, over to the North Landing River and North River. In North Carolina, it stretched over Currituck, Camden, Pasquotank and Gates counties. And in Virginia, it encompassed Chesapeake, Suffolk, Isle of Wight County, Portsmouth and Norfolk.

As it turns out, the swamp, despite and because of its unique peatland ecosystem, was a hub of activity from the earliest years of our nation. The Dismal, as it was known informally, was a place that reflected the best and worst of an evolving America, a place of refuge, forced labor, entrepreneurship, commerce.

“Thousands of African-American Maroons, Indigenous Americans, and enslaved African-American laborers lived there in a variety of communities and, in the process, created their own social and economic world between 1607 and 1860,” American University anthropology professor Daniel Sayers was quoted as saying in the March/April 2015 edition of Humanities, a publication of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Maroons were enslaved people who escaped and created small townships within the swamp, taking advantage of the swamp’s undesirable conditions that hid them from Europeans. Historians estimate that as many as 50,000 freedom-seekers lived in the swamp. Later, the Dismal became one of the few water stops along the Underground Railroad that helped the enslaved to escape to free northern states. The refuge was the first to be named to the Underground Railroad Network to Freedom Program in 2003.

And George Washington slept there — numerous times. As one of 12 wealthy Virginians to form the Great Dismal Swamp Co. in 1763, he was instrumental in building the nation’s first canal, now the oldest operating canal, to drain the land for farming and real estate investment.

“During a time of soil depletion and scarcity of seaboard land, the Dismal Swamp — one of the last and largest expanses on the East Coast to resist settlement — promised the advantages of fertility and easy access to navigable water,” according to an article about the company published at mountvernon.org.

Washington, one of three managers for the company, was charged with securing titles and buying the enslaved people who dug the ditches and produced cedar shingles through the 1770s, according to the website. But goals of draining the swamp and growing hemp to export had failed.

After the War for Independence, Washington helped reconvene the partners. Despite the lack of success on engineering drainage, the effort eventually led to Washington devising a plan with Patrick Henry and others for the Dismal Swamp Co. to build a canal through the swamp to link the Chesapeake Bay and Albemarle Sound. Construction began in 1793 and was completed in 1805, more than five years after Washington’s death in December 1799.

Meanwhile, the company gave up on plans to drain the swamp and turned its focus to timber, leading to its first profitable year in 1810. Four years later, it was in business as the Dismal Swamp Land Co.

On Washington’s birthday in 1973, the Union Camp Corp., a forest products company, donated 49,097 acres of swamp to The Nature Conservancy, which then donated the land to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. The refuge was officially established Aug. 30, 1974.  But timber businesses are still thriving; International Paper operates its plant about 30 miles from the refuge headquarters in Suffolk, Lowie said.

As far as national wildlife refuges go, the Dismal Swamp is rather low-key. It has no fancy visitor center; but its 75,000 annual visitors can do self-guided tours with the help of interpretive signs and kiosks, including at the five different trailheads. The refuge is crisscrossed by 150 miles of ditches and road, of which about 60 miles are open for public use.

The popular annual bird festival, which is planned for April 29, attracts birders from all over the world, Lowie said. Planned activities include guided bird walks, bus tours and nature walks, as well as numerous family and educational offerings.

Not far from the refuge, the Suffolk Visitor Center has a Dismal Swamp exhibit, he said. And Chesapeake is currently building the Great Dismal Swamp Historic Village. It’s going to be a city park, with a visitor center there. The first Black school in Chesapeake has been moved to the site, he said, and they’ll have mockups of what a maroon camp looked like.

In addition, the refuge is starting to make plans for its 50th anniversary Aug. 30, 2024. But that date is inconveniently during the height of the swamp’s notoriously vicious bug population.

“So we’ll probably call all our events next year an anniversary event,” Lowrie said.  “Yellow flies are the biggest issue — unless you’re out on the lake.”

Lowie said he believes it would beneficial to all stakeholders to have the Dismal Swamp join the other 62 designated National Heritage Areas that have been designated from 1984 through 2023. The first were National Heritage Area Illinois and the Michigan Canal National Heritage Area.

“I think it’ll bring more visitation here,” he said. “It will bring light to the significance of this landscape here of a dismal swamp.”

But it would also bring more attention to the profound cultural and historical significance of the Dismal Swamp, Lowie said.

“That may bring a different user group to say, ‘Oh wow, let me check this out,’” he said. “It should benefit the area by bringing more education, more outreach and hopefully more stewardship and protection.”

And the Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge would be right in the thick of it, serving as a hub.

“Maybe we’ll have a visitor center one day,” Lowie added.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

The North Carolina coast has several regions of world-renowned beaches and barrier islands. They offer miles of sand, substantial hotels, and a full host of shops, restaurants, and sites available for tourists and residents alike.

Along with the Outer Banks to the north and the Wilmington-area beaches to the south, the Crystal Coast, a tourism marketing term coined in the 1980s, has gained recognition over the past century for its abundant amenities.

The term has since come to also include neighboring destinations, but it mainly refers to the beaches of Carteret County, one of the state’s oldest counties with history dating back three centuries. Its history has been defined by war, industrial development and the tourism boom that has shaped so much of society on the North Carolina coast.

Following the initial establishment of North Carolina on the Albemarle Sound, colonial settlers began to move south and west to find more areas for tobacco cultivation and trade. Many went to cultivate the rich soils along the Neuse River and, by the 1720s, the Cape Fear and Tar rivers. The settlers displaced native peoples throughout this process, including the Tuscarora and Core.

Some colonial families decided to stay along the coast and settle near inlets. One of these settlements was the future Carteret County seat of Beaufort, settled near Beaufort Inlet in the 1710s and incorporated in 1723. Beaufort was the colony’s fourth incorporated town. Carteret County itself was founded a year earlier and named for Sir John Carteret, one of the Lords Proprietors, according to historian and author David Leroy Corbitt.

Beaufort was a port town, a center for ocean trade and a stop for ships navigating through Beaufort Inlet. But the port was isolated from the rest of the more prosperous areas of the colony and remained small throughout its early years. The one exception to its sleepy early beginnings was in 1747, when the town was captured by the Spanish as part of the War of Jenkins’ Ear between Great Britain and Spain. Local militiamen retook the town three days later and ended the Spanish threat.

Outside of Beaufort, the area remained isolated and rural. The island of Bogue Banks, popular today for its many tourist attractions, was barely inhabited throughout the 18th and early 19th centuries. But on another barrier island here, one of the county’s earliest prosperous towns was Portsmouth, a town on Portsmouth Island near Ocracoke Inlet. The town had more than 500 residents in 1850 before losing most of them following the reopening of Hatteras Inlet in 1846. Portsmouth is now a ghost town and part of Cape Lookout National Seashore. The seashore also contains one of North Carolina’s tallest lighthouses, the Cape Lookout Lighthouse, originally built in 1804 and rebuilt in 1859.

On the mainland, communities such as Peletier and Broad Creek gained their first settlers in the 18th century. But rural isolation, the marshy environment, and a lack of large-scale shipping kept the inland population low. Carteret County had the second smallest population of any North Carolina county in 1790. The people who lived in the county supported themselves with shipping, agriculture and naval stores – pitch, tar and turpentine products harvested from the abundant pine forests.

Plantation agriculture and slavery were less prominent in this area than in surrounding counties. The 1860 census showed that 24.5% of Carteret County’s population was enslaved, the lowest percentage east of Moore County.

The mid-19th century brought an economic boost to Carteret County in the form of the North Carolina Railroad Co. Connecting the Piedmont and the coast, the new railroad was to have its eastern terminus in a new town. The tract that included what was then known as Shepard’s Point was platted as a grid design in 1854 and named Morehead City for its chief planner, John Motley Morehead, who had served as governor from 1841 to 1845. Morehead organized investors in the land development company, led the effort to raise private funding for the state-appropriated rail line and served as its first president.

Morehead City was incorporated Feb. 10, 1861. Meanwhile, the railroad also linked other Carteret County towns and communities, including Wildwood and Newport.

But the railroad and Carteret County’s strategic coastal location made it a prime target for the Union during the Civil War. The primary target was Fort Macon, which had been built in 1834 to protect the entry into Beaufort Inlet. Confederate troops stormed the nearly abandoned fort before North Carolina had even seceded, according to John G. Barrett. Less than one year later, Union forces landed at Hoop Pole Creek in present-day Atlantic Beach and captured the fort. The larger coastal area quickly fell to the Union. Farther inland, the Battle of Newport Barracks in February 1864 resulted in three Medals of Honor being awarded to a group of Union soldiers from Vermont. 

The next 75 years were a time of steady growth and development in Carteret County. Its population nearly doubled between 1860 and 1920. An effort to designate Morehead City a state port began in the 1920s and culminated with a $7.5 million appropriation in 1949. Beaufort became a center for tourism and marine research as well as shipping and fishing.  New funds into Beaufort from this growing prosperity led to the construction of a new courthouse for the county in 1907.

By the 1920s, Carteret County was becoming a tourist destination. The first bridge connecting Bogue Banks to the mainland was built in 1928 by a group of local investors who then sold the bridge to the state eight years later. The Morehead-Atlantic Beach bridge and the Emerald Isle-Cape Carteret ferry, which was replaced by a bridge in 1971, eventually led to hotels and fishing piers throughout the banks.

The central part of the Bogue Banks between Emerald Isle and Atlantic Beach received an early benefactor in 1917 when Alice Hoffman, a relative of Theodore Roosevelt, bought a large tract. Hoffman spent much of her life building up an estate on Bogue Banks and feuding with local fishermen, as noted in Kathleen McMillan Guthrie’s biography of Hoffman. The sale of Hoffman’s land after her death in 1953 led to considerable development and the eventual formation of the towns of Indian Beach and Pine Knoll Shores.

Growth on Bogue Banks occurred alongside development in other parts of the county. While Beaufort’s population remained small, it started to gain shops, restaurants and tourist attractions such as the North Carolina Maritime Museum. Newport’s population more than doubled in the 1960s, while the Down East communities such as Atlantic and Sea Level experienced growth and became centers for fishing and boating. Sea Level became the site for the national Snug Harbor Navy retirement facility, a home for retired merchant mariners that operated from 1976 to 2019. Newport was also aided by the construction of Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point in nearby Havelock, for which it became a site for housing. Reflecting this development and its growing tourist reputation, the term “Crystal Coast” was introduced in the late 20th century to describe the towns and beaches of the area. 

A number of remarkable people called Carteret County home in the 20th century. These included architect Bill Ransom Campbell, author Gerald R. Weeks, and Major League Baseball pitcher Lonnie Chisenhall, all from Morehead City. Other famous residents include Judge Algernon Marbley and Samuel Herring, singer of the band Future Islands. One famous Beaufort resident was Reginald Hawkins, civil rights leader and the first African American to run for governor of North Carolina. Another was Fairleigh Dickinson, a business leader who also became the namesake of Fairleigh Dickinson University in New Jersey. Michael J. Smith, the pilot of the Space Shuttle Challenger mission, which exploded soon after takeoff in 1986, was also from Beaufort.

Today, Carteret County is one of the centers for tourism in coastal North Carolina. There are dozens of well-known restaurants, recreational facilities, and hotels on Bogue Banks and elsewhere. Earlier this year, Food Network personality Guy Fieri filmed his family reunion special in the county, touring several of its restaurants and markets. Beaufort has won numerous “best small town” awards in the past decade, most notably one from Travel and Leisure magazine in 2014.

SWANSBORO – His parents did not tell him why they brought him to Hammocks Beach State Park.

As a child, Dwayne Patterson did not think to ask. The summer day trips with his mom from their home in Kinston to Bear Island were a beach escape they routinely enjoyed when his father, a high school agriculture teacher, would bring some of his students to camp.

“I didn’t realize we were going to this beach because it was the Black beach,” Patterson said.

Patterson, who is retiring this week as the director of the North Carolina Division of Parks and Recreation, recently returned to the park to help break ground on the renovation of the teachers’ building, named so because it was where Black educators from across the state would converge to meet, recreate and tackle educational issues during segregation.

“This place is a very special place for me,” Patterson said at the groundbreaking Friday.

Behind him, the sprawling, white-painted cinder block building stood nestled among oak trees peppered across the grounds at the entrance to the state park.

“To have this moment where we come back … it makes me feel very good,” Patterson said. “I just want to say that it’s a special place and when we turn this over to open it up and we dedicate it … I hope we’re turning over a new leaf being involved in the community.”

The more than 5,300-square-foot building is being transformed into a community space, one that will be available to host everything from conferences and workshops to family reunions and wedding receptions.

Guests of those types of events will be able to peruse interpretive exhibits using audio and visual equipment detailing the building’s historical significance.

Between the early 1950s and 1970, the building enriched the lives and careers of Black educators and hosted a statewide teachers conference to discuss integration of North Carolina schools, according to Sarah Kendrick, Hammocks Beach State Park superintendent.

“The teachers who gathered here would nurture thousands of students who would go on to lead North Carolina toward economic prosperity, environmental sustainability and community unity,” she said. “We as a staff are very excited and can’t wait to see this building full of people again.”

She attributed to historic levels of funding for the Parks and Recreation Trust Fund and Patterson’s vision for the $3.6 million renovation project.

Fred Schachter, president of Friends of the Hammocks and Bear Island and a park volunteer, said a recurring theme he hears from visitors to the park is that they were unaware of its existence.

“It’s amazing. People who have lived in this county for 10 years (have said) I didn’t know this place was here,” he said. “I’m hoping that this building behind me stops a lot of that.”

Schachter said that each year he meets visitors to the park who share stories of when their parents and grandparents traveled to meet at the teachers’ building.

“I get to hear stories of what this place was like in the late ’50s or during the ’60s and early ’70s. It is really a remarkable story every time I hear that. I’m hoping that with the opening of this building that not only will they be able to see the stories, but the people that come here every year to relive their youth and see this place and enjoy it the way that it should be,” he said.

N.C. Department of Natural and Cultural Resources Secretary Reid Wilson said the places the agency manages, including the state’s parks, museums and aquariums, bring people together.

“They help create common ground and any time we can have common ground in the year 2023 that’s a really good thing,” he said. “Everybody’s treated the same. Everybody’s welcome at the Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.”

Hammocks Beach State Park is incredible biologically and scenically, he said.

“But it also has this really important historical piece to it that Dwayne lived and I really appreciate that,” Wilson said. “You remember what this was like. I’m sad to say that back in the day there were only three of our state parks where African Americans could go.”

Those included Hammocks Beach State Park, Jones Lake State Park in Elizabethtown and the southern entrance to William B. Umstead State Park in Raleigh.

“By preserving this building, and I know it would have been cheaper to demolish it and building a new one, but by preserving it as it is we will be able to tell the authentic story of this place and what it meant to so many teachers and so many kids across the state,” Wilson said. “I’m not a builder. I’m not an architect, but it seemed on the inside it had good bones and it was a strong building and if we could just give it the right attention and sufficient funding we could magically bring it back to very close what it was before when so many people used this place and enjoyed it and benefited from it.”

Renovations may be completed as early as this fall.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Craven County and Pamlico County may present one of the largest contrasts between neighboring counties in eastern North Carolina.

Craven County is one of the most urban, densely populated counties in the region. It is the home of the sizable city of New Bern and dozens of historic homes, shops and restaurants. Most of the counties surrounding Craven County are much smaller and almost entirely rural. Its eastern neighbor, Pamlico County, is one of the region’s newest counties and one of the state’s least populated.

Despite its sparse population and short history, Pamlico County is a hidden gem that offers both natural beauty and small-town charm.

Pamlico County was first reached by Europeans in the early 18th century at around the same time that the Swiss settled New Bern. It was originally the eastern section of Craven County. Unlike the prosperous area north and west of New Bern, much of the eastern section of the county was swampy with poor soil and inadequate transportation. The population grew more slowly, with most families focusing on the trade in wood products and naval stores instead of plantation agriculture.

By the early 19th century, the area that later became Pamlico County was beginning to develop its earliest towns. The communities of Oriental and Vandemere attracted their first settlers by this time. The county did not have its first incorporated town until 1857.

Pamlico County’s rural setting has led to a proliferation of small communities and interesting place names. Oriental’s name has a disputed backstory. Tradition states that the name came from a steamer, the Oriental, which was built in Philadelphia in 1861 and used as a federal transport ship in the first year of the Civil War. The ship ran aground near Bodie Island in 1862.

More than 30 years later, a post office was established on the Neuse River called Smith Creek. The postmaster’s wife, Rebecca Midyette, wanted the community to have a more fitting name. She either found the nameplate for the Oriental or saw it in an Outer Banks home. The name stuck.

Today the only Pamlico County structure listed on the National Register of Historic Places is China Grove. Likely built in 1803, China Grove was originally the home of Edward Carraway, a naval stores manufacturer who owned an extensive plantation. It is known for its sizable, two-tiered porch and prominent location near the mouth of the Neuse River, according to the house’s National Register of Historic Places listing.

Pamlico County was formed in the heated political conflict that characterized much of the Reconstruction era. White supremacists in the North Carolina General Assembly believed that creating a new eastern county with a majority white population would help them win elections in the 1st Congressional District. As a result, the state formed Pamlico County in 1872. According to David Leroy Corbitt, the county was formed from eastern sections of Craven and Beaufort counties.

After formation, Pamlico County’s population remained below 10,000 until 1970.

Its county courthouse reflected the area’s general privation. According to historian Joe Mobley, for its first five years “the county seat moved from place to place until the county commissioners finally agreed on one site.”

That site was Bayboro, where court was held in a rented building until a courthouse was built in 1893. The original courthouse was replaced by the current one built by the federal Works Progress Administration in 1939.

The 20th century brought new opportunities for the county. It grew alongside New Bern and benefitted from the construction of the Pamlico, Oriental & Western Railroad between New Bern and Oriental, completed in 1906. As a result, Pamlico County’s population grew by more than 20% between 1900 and 1910. One of the most notable firsts in Pamlico occurred in 1917, when Oriental operated the state’s first motorized school bus.

As noted in a highway historical marker essay, “the introduction of a motorized bus to deliver students from outlying areas to the schoolhouse was considered an organizational triumph.”

Pamlico County remained a quiet rural area throughout the late 20^th century. It gained several industries and had a modest amount of economic success. Oriental began to attract tourists interested in boating and maritime activities. A Neuse River ferry opened between Minnesott Beach and Cherry Branch, facilitating transportation to Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point and the beaches of Carteret County.

Arguably Pamlico County’s most famous native lived in the county during this time. Kevin Williamson grew up in Oriental and was influenced by his experiences there when he created the television show “Dawson’s Creek,” named after a nearby body of water popular as a recreation spot. Williamson also wrote the horror movie, “Scream,” and dozens of other movies and television shows.

Today, Pamlico County is defined by its miles of untouched swampland and water access. There are several tourist attractions such as marinas, Goose Creek Game Land, and the multiple camps and retreats at Minnesott Beach. Oriental is the site of the 2022 Southern Living Home, a house featured in the magazine’s October 2022 edition that is available for tours.

With its forests and quaint shops, marinas and restaurants, Pamlico County has become a destination for travelers and homebuyers seeking rural and small-town charm.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Coastal North Carolina is dominated by rural landscapes, water and small towns. Two counties in the state’s coastal zone do not even have a municipality, while two others have only one municipality with fewer than 900 people. The counties that do have considerable urban areas have a rich, fascinating history of development and diversity that stands out compared with their quieter neighbors. Craven County is one of these urban coastal counties.

Dominated by the city of New Bern, Craven has transformed from a colonial trading post into a center for industry and tourism since its incorporation three centuries ago.

Craven County was the third area of North Carolina permanently settled by Europeans. While the Albemarle Sound and the region near Bath Creek were home to English settlers, the Neuse River and Trent River attracted Swiss and German immigrants. These Swiss and Germans arrived in 1710 under the leadership of Baron Christoph Von Graffenreid. The explorer John Lawson laid out their town, New Bern, that same year. Craven County was formed two years later in 1712 from Bath County, according to David Leroy Corbitt.

New Bern’s settlement became the center of the Tuscarora War. It represented a major encroachment of Europeans into an area held by the powerful Tuscarora Native Americans. The Tuscarora killed Lawson, captured Von Graffenreid and devastated both New Bern and the other North Carolina town of Bath, according to historian David La Vere in his book, “The Tuscarora War.” An expedition from South Carolina finally ended the war in 1713 with a horrific massacre at the Tuscarora town of Fort Neoheroka.

Starting in 1766, New Bern became the capital of the North Carolina colony. It was a center for governance and the home of many of the colony’s most powerful families.

The town was where colonial governor William Tryon built his imposing palace in 1770, a construction project that prompted the colony-wide Regulator revolt. New Bern was also arguably where the American Revolution started in North Carolina. In May 1775, Tryon’s successor Josiah Martin was forced to flee Tryon Palace when a large mob gathered and threatened to tear down the gates. Martin’s flight was the unofficial end of royal control in the colony.

New Bern and surrounding Craven County had several natural advantages that helped them grow to substantial wealth during the antebellum period. The city is located at the confluence of two navigable rivers, the Trent and the Neuse. Those rivers flow through hundreds of miles of rich soil in Jones, Johnston and Lenoir counties as well as others nearby. Since those counties lacked substantial markets, New Bern was their connection to the rest of the world. 

Accordingly, the city’s population increased, and it was the largest in the state until the 1840 census. Wealth brought new buildings and expansion as well as a large population of enslaved people. Craven County had the 29th highest percentage of enslaved people in the state in 1860, according to the Hergesheimer map. It also had a large number of free African American residents, including prosperous barber and anti-slavery advocate John C. Stanly.

New Bern escaped much of the privation that affected other coastal towns such as Elizabeth City and Plymouth during the Civil War. It was captured by the Union in 1862 and held for the remainder of the war. Following the war, New Bern was economically overtaken by Piedmont towns that embraced industrialization more quickly. It sank to the seventh largest town by 1900. But New Bern still retained a substantial amount of wealth given its importance to the state’s still-dominant agricultural sector.

This wealth was reflected in a number of large government buildings and fine homes built throughout the city. The stately county courthouse, a Romanesque Revival building with a mansard roof, was completed in 1897. One of the largest private homes was the Blades House (1903), described by historian Catherine Bishir in her book, “Architecture of Eastern North Carolina” as “among the state’s prime renditions of the energetic synthesis of Queen Anne style massing and early Colonial Revival detail.”

The 20th century was a time of transition and reflection for New Bern. The city began to embrace industry and build on its railroad connections. According to a 1920 city directory, the city had four banks, 12 lumber companies, and six fertilizer manufacturers. The railroad, which reached New Bern in 1858, continued to expand. It brought development to the city and enabled the creation of the county’s other towns such as Havelock, Cove City and Dover. 

Despite this growth, it was clear that New Bern’s place at the top of North Carolina’s urban hierarchy was gone. This shift in the city’s fortunes pushed it to embrace its past in a way that few other North Carolina cities had. In 1945, the Tryon Palace Commission began fundraising to rebuild Tryon Palace, which had burned in 1798. Due chiefly to the efforts of local philanthropist Maude Moore Latham, the historically accurate palace opened to great acclaim in 1959. In the past few years, Tryon Palace has attracted over 200,000 visitors per year who pour millions of dollars into the local economy at hotels, shops, and restaurants downtown, according to newspaper articles and the Palace Foundation’s 2019 annual report.

Today, Craven County is one of coastal North Carolina’s most prosperous counties. It continues to attract industry and tourism, with sites such as Tryon Palace and the Birthplace of Pepsi-Cola. Havelock has grown rapidly with the expansion of Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point. The county is also a popular stop for travelers on the way down U.S. 70 to Carteret County beaches and attractions.

This time of year, the only sounds greeting the sunrise over Lake Mattamuskeet are the soft plop of a fish landing back in the water after a jump and the rustle of wind pushing the grasses lining the shore. Just the spiders and tree silhouettes are visible at this hour of grayness.

As the sun breaks the horizon, a few hidden birds vocalize their presence. Shortly after sunrise, fishermen arrive and begin casting lines into the dark water.

Lake Mattamuskeet covers about 40,000 acres, making it North Carolina’s largest natural lake and a commanding presence in mainland Hyde County.

“It’s the second largest natural lake east of the Mississippi (River),” said Kelly Davis, who was the longtime biologist for Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge.

In the eastern U.S., excluding the Great Lakes, only Lake Okeechobee in Florida is bigger.

In the winter, the stillness disperses as the lake attracts about 240 species of raucous birds, many of which stop to rest there on their migrations. But some are also year-round residents, Davis said.

And she would know. As the refuge biologist, she managed the waterfowl impoundments around the western, southern and eastern sides of the lake.

The refuge includes the lake plus an additional 10,000 acres of surrounding land — the impoundments; a visitor center with mounted local mammals and birds, along with interactive exhibits and a gift shop; and the headquarters for the Mattamuskeet refuge, which also includes Swan Quarter and Cedar Island refuges.

The impoundments are a habitat managed specifically for wildlife, with native grasses, reeds and hedges grown for waterfowl consumption.

“You can manipulate the water levels in the impoundments, and by doing so — during the growing season particularly — you can influence the types of plants that germinate,” Davis said, adding she evaluated the impoundments and wrote an annual management plan for them.

Like any other wetlands, they try to go through natural succession and get “woody” with time, changing from just grasses to include more cattails, wax myrtles or red maples. Setting back this succession to maintain the wetlands means setting units on fire every four to eight years.

“You really want to set the table and have a smorgasbord ready for when thousands and thousands of migratory ducks, geese and swans show up ready to eat,” she said.

Birdwatchers flock there in winter, utilizing the wildlife viewing areas on Wildlife Drive, the nature trails and the two photo blinds on Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge for observation and photography.

The biggest migratory waterfowl is the tundra swan, which nests in Alaska and Canada and comes to Mattamuskeet and Pea Island refuges for the winter.

Duck species include the northern pintail, the green-winged teal, gadwall, ring-necked and wood ducks. There are both resident and migratory Canada geese, of which the latter return to nest near the Hudson Bay in Canada, Davis said. People might see snow geese from the Arctic; warblers from Central and South America; wading birds — some of which are migratory and some of which are not; and raptors.

“Our raptor population always picks up a little bit in the fall and winter,” she said, because they prey on the other birds that arrive. Raptors include the northern harrier, red-tailed hawk, bald eagle and osprey, plus several owl species.

In her work, Davis completed an annual vegetation survey for the lake, conducted aerial surveys of waterfowl in the fall and winter, did alligator surveys, banded “a lot of waterfowl” and counted shorebirds and waterbirds. Osprey production surveys consisted of climbing up into the nests and banding ospreys, she noted.

“When you work on a refuge, you do management, you do biology, you do public use, you do it all,” Davis stated. “National wildlife refuges are wonderful places to live and work. Our property adjoins Mattamuskeet refuge in a few places. The lake and refuge are great neighbors.”

Multiple theories abound as to how the expansive body of water formed, the most popular of which include a fire burning deep in the peat and a meteor strike. “We know Mother Nature created it,” Davis noted. “It’s not a human-made lake.”

Researchers from the University of North Carolina took core samples of the lake sediment not quite 20 years ago and found an ash layer in places, Davis recalled. That would suggest a fire occurred, “whether it was a peat forest or meteorite” that burned.

Mac Gibbs, the former Hyde County director with the North Carolina Cooperative Extension, said no proof of a meteorite strike had been found. His opinion? “I really think it’s from the fire that burned the peat soils down to the poor mineral soil.”

It’s not hard to imagine, as even today, the area is prone to massive fires that sometimes burn deep into the peat — organic matter within the soil. In 2008, the Evan Roads Wildfire burned more than 40,000 acres and “burned down 2 and 3 feet in the soil,” Gibbs said.

The fire theory also lines up with area Algonquian tribes’ oral tradition, which maintains a fire caused the depression that filled with rainwater, forming the lake. It was the Native Americans who named the area Mattamuskeet, meaning “dry dust.”

No rivers, springs or other waterways feed the lake, so its water did come from rain, runoff, groundwater, a receding ocean or a combination of those.

Gibbs said the lake’s average depth was historically about 4 feet, “so it’s a very shallow lake.” He estimates the current average depth around closer to 6 or 7 feet because of sea level rise and other contributing factors.

Much of the lake’s base is organic, although some parts are sandy and some parts are clay. “The northwest side of the lake has sections that have very peaty bottoms,” Davis said.

Sandy soils in places suggest the area was at one time a beach. Geologists maintain that about 75,000 years ago, “that’s where the sea level was,” Gibbs said of the lake area. The ocean began receding and did so until about 14,000 years ago, at which time it reversed course and started rising.

“Fourteen thousand years ago, the sea level was about 200 feet below where it is today,” he said.

Rivers provided drainage from the mountains and Piedmont area, depositing rich topsoil in the area around the lake, which functioned as a delta “just like the Mississippi Delta,” Gibbs described.

“We’ve got some of the richest farmland in the United States, we can grow crops that rival the Midwest,” he said.

For that reason, developers tried to drain and sell land throughout northeastern North Carolina, from the Great Dismal Swamp to Lake Phelps and Lake Mattamuskeet. “It’s been a history of the whole area,” Gibbs said, noting that enslaved people were forced to dig the canals to drain the land.

Developers later succeeded in fully draining the lake several times in the early 1900s and tried to sell it off as farmland — a plan that never came to fruition. “I think mosquitoes had as much to do with it as anything” Gibbs opined. “It was a disappointment at that point in time; it just didn’t work.”

According to a 2016 Our State article by Bryan Mims, the cost of keeping water out of the lake via miles of canals and the three-story pumping station was also prohibitive.

The pumping station was built in 1915 as the world’s largest.

The U.S. government acquired the lake, dedicating it as a wildlife refuge in 1934, and the pumping station was converted to a hunting lodge until 1974. The former pumping station has been on the National Register of Historic Places since 1980 and is now state property.

“Hunting is a big part of Hyde County’s economy,” Davis said, noting that duck hunting and bear hunting are popular, and most hunters pay to hunt on private property.

The refuge runs a small waterfowl hunt near its headquarters, managed on an automated lottery system people can enter for a two-day hunt in December or January, Davis said. The hunt takes place on a 4-mile strip of shoreline that has 16 hunt blinds, including one Americans with Disabilities Act-compliant hunt blind. Hunting is prohibited in the refuge outside of the specified time frame for those lottery winners.

Bank fishing and crabbing are permitted year-round from N.C. 94 and in a few other places on the refuge, while most other fishing is limited from March to October.

Eugene Grays was bank fishing soon after sunrise on a late-September day. He placed one small, round, silvery menhaden fish onto his hook from a bucket of the live bait fish that he’d caught earlier. A rockfish had just broken his line by swimming under the culvert below N.C. 94, which runs north to south across the lake.

“He was a whopper,” Grays lamented the loss of the rockfish. He and his older brother Theotis Grays caught white perch and crabs another day and were currently fishing for white perch and rockfish.

The brothers grew up in Fairfield, the town directly north of the lake. Their father taught them to catch, clean and cook fish, and Eugene Grays recalled coming to the lake as young boys and taking home for lunch whatever they had caught.

He currently lives in Maryland, having moved there to work for the government, but he’s now retired and visits home as often as possible.

“I come home to go fishing,” he said. “There’s nothing like home fishing.”

Many others are similarly drawn to the lake to fish and catch the renowned, massive lake crabs.

“Out-of-towners come all the time,” he said, listing Elizabeth City, Wilson and Raleigh as some of the places from which people come. “They eat everything they catch.”

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Eastern North Carolina is a region dominated by agriculture, small towns, and miles of forests and swamps. One of the area’s oldest counties, Hyde County, also is one of its most wild and undisturbed.

The residents of Hyde County, both before and after European contact, took advantage of its natural resources and tried to use its swamps and rivers as efficiently as possible. But after centuries of trying to exploit this land, the current residents now see unspoiled nature as their greatest asset and many are trying to preserve it as much as they can. 

Hyde County’s first settlement by the English occurred in the late 17th and early 18th centuries. After establishing the colony of North Carolina north of Albemarle Sound, colonists moved south. Some built farms and a town in what became Beaufort County, while others settled east of Bath Creek to the Pamlico Sound. This area had relatively poor soil and was the domain of numerous Native American groups. Many of these groups were defeated in the Tuscarora War and moved away.

The eventual namesake of Hyde County came from the period of the war. The county was formed in 1705 and first named Wickham Precinct after an estate in England. The name was changed to Hyde County in 1712 to honor Edward Hyde, the North Carolina governor who requested help from South Carolina to fight the Tuscarora.

Throughout its history, Hyde County has been dominated by the large body of water known as Lake Mattamuskeet. Mattamuskeet is the largest natural lake in the state. It was long believed to have been the result of a meteor strike, although scientists now suspect the lake was formed by a massive peat fire.

The area around Mattamuskeet was home to a number of Native American groups prior to English contact. The Mattamuskeet Native Americans, along with nearby Corees, were forced onto a reservation by the English in 1715 following the Tuscarora War. Numerous attempts to drain the lake and build canals have been made since the 18th century. These attempts have substantially decreased the lake’s size.

Outside of the area around Lake Mattamuskeet, the county grew slowly. It lost its prosperous western half in 1729 with the formation of Beaufort County and much of its Outer Banks territory in 1870 to Dare County, according to historian Daniel Leroy Corbitt.

The Hyde County Courthouse reflects this shift in focus. Court was first held in Bath before moving to Woodstock Point on the Pungo River. The courthouse at Woodstock Point, which burned in 1789, left ruins that can still be seen in the Pungo River, according to the North Carolina Gazetteer.

The court later moved 15 miles east to Swan Quarter, which remains unincorporated. Hyde County’s next courthouse was built soon after the move in the 1850s and was described by historian Catherine Bishir in “A Guide to the Historic Architecture of Eastern North Carolina” as a “compact, stuccoed, 2-story brick building” with light roof decorations.” The building is one of the oldest courthouses in the state.

The 19th century saw farmers try to extract as much wealth as they could from the swamps of Hyde County, with little success. The county profited from slavery, however, with 37.4% of its population enslaved in 1860, one of the lowest percentages in eastern North Carolina. Many of these slaves worked in either smaller farms or forestry. They took advantage of hardy swamp woods to produce shingles. Areas drained by canals were viable centers of agriculture, although farmers never succeeded in draining the area’s largest lakes. Shipping also brought in a modest income on the Outer Banks. Ocracoke was adjacent to Ocracoke Inlet, a major inlet for oceangoing ships until the mid-1800s when more efficient inlets opened up. 

In the 20th century, the county continued to be defined by Lake Mattamuskeet and Ocracoke. Mattamuskeet became a center for hunting, fishing and wildlife viewing.

One reminder of the area’s history as a hunting destination is Mattamuskeet Lodge, located on the lake near the community of New Holland. Originally built as a pumping station in 1911, the building was renovated after 1934 following the federal government’s takeover of the Mattamuskeet area as a wildlife refuge. It is by far the tallest structure in the county and at one time could accommodate over 50 travelers, as noted in the building’s National Register nomination.

Twenty-five miles to the south of Mattamuskeet, Ocracoke Island attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists each year. They arrive by ferry to enjoy the island’s beaches, seafood restaurants, and historic 1823 lighthouse.

Outside of these two areas, the 20^th century was mostly quiet for Hyde County. Its population decreased by almost half between 1900 and 2000.

The county’s main period of prominence occurred during the desegregation struggles of the 1960s. Between 1968 and 1969, African American residents protested the closure of two historically Black schools. They refused to send their children to any school, marched on Raleigh, and fought back against violent attempts to influence their actions.

According to historian David Cecelski, this battle ended up leading to a referendum and an extraordinary settlement with state officials in Raleigh that kept the schools open.

Today, Hyde County has embraced its natural heritage and status as a tourism center. It has the second-smallest population in the state with fewer residents than it had in 1800. There are few shops, restaurants, or businesses outside of the tourism industry in Ocracoke. But the county does have several visitor centers and areas for natural recreation. It has embraced its pristine beauty and remains a haven for nature lovers.

The military has been a boon to North Carolina’s economy. It has brought in millions in government spending, thousands of jobs, and generations of families eager to live and retire where they used to serve.

Newspapers, historians, and the media often focus on large cities, base locations such as Fayetteville and Jacksonville, when discussing the impact of these military installations. But smaller towns also play an important role. This is the story of two coastal towns and how their histories have been shaped during the past 80 years by the Marine Corps bases nearby.

For more than 200 years, Snead’s Ferry, the vessel for which the Onslow County community was named, plied the waters of the New River between Ferry Point and Pollocks Point. It served as a vital connection on the King’s Highway, a colonial postal route near present-day U.S. 17 that was essential to communication in remote parts of eastern North Carolina. The ferry continued long after the end of colonial rule, the widespread building of bridges and new turnpikes, and the emergence of railroads in the 1840s. Snead’s Ferry finally ceased operations in 1939 following the construction of a nearby bridge.

Today, Snead’s Ferry likely could not legally run the same route. The Ferry Point side is still part of the historic community, surrounded by fishing companies and old homes. But the other side of New River features a small wildlife viewing area surrounded by Camp Lejeune, a Marine Corps base with more than 40,000 stationed Marines and restricted public access

Camp Lejeune, founded in 1941, has severely limited outside traffic on the base since the terrorist attacks of 2001. Just 1,500 feet on the other side of the Sneads Ferry bridge on N.C. 210 is a gate that would stop any prospective traveler. Except for the wildlife area, there would be nowhere for the ferry to land that was accessible to the public.

Sneads Ferry, the community that grew up along the New River ferry, is just one of several coastal towns that have been shaped by military expansion in the past 70 years. Nearby towns such as Sneads Ferry and Newport in Carteret County are now destinations for thousands of military families and employees. Before the bases were built, these towns were small, located on naturally advantageous river bends and points of land. They operated small-scale businesses and were mostly bypassed by the large-scale agricultural and industrial developments of the past century. 

But the needs of military bases changed the nature of their locations. Chosen for their cheap land and access to water, these installations ended up radically transforming not just their host towns but the overall region in which they were located. This new situation presents challenges and opportunities that create a new way of living for many in coastal North Carolina.

Sneads Ferry dates back nearly three centuries to the earliest years of the North Carolina Colony. In 1725, Edmund Ennett began running a ferry across the New River. It was known as the Lower Ferry because it was down river from Wantland’s Ferry, near present-day Jacksonville.

A later ferry at the same spot was operated by Robert W. Snead, who moved to the area in 1760. By the mid-18th century, the ferry was an established part of postal communication in the colonies. 

Like many places in eastern North Carolina, Sneads Ferry was overlooked by the historical forces that built up much of the state. It was not attractive to railroad lines or a productive location for industry. The railroad did not reach the vicinity of Sneads Ferry until the 1880s.

Robust growth in Wilmington and New Bern did little to change the fortunes of New River communities. In his history of Onslow County, Alan D. Watson makes only the occasional reference to Sneads Ferry, the main examples being its historic relevance to the post road and its status as the home of John Everett, an African American who fought for the Union during the Civil War. Sneads Ferry remains unincorporated to this day.

This quiet history was surpassed only slightly by development in Newport, about a 60-mile drive from Sneads Ferry and about 10 miles from Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point.

Settled in the 18th century, Newport remained a mostly isolated spot on the Newport River. During the Union occupation, it was the site of a Civil War battle in which a Union barracks and a railroad bridge were destroyed. The town incorporated in 1866, but from 1870 to 1940, Newport’s population never exceeded 500. The town remained small until the middle of the 20th century.

In 1941, the futures of these two towns were dramatically changed. It was during that year that the Marine Corps began work on what would become Camp Lejeune on the New River. The Marine Corps acquired a sizable tract of land in what was once the community of Marines and began constructing barracks and warehouses. Men and women from Sneads Ferry, lured by the prospect of well-paying jobs during the Great Depression, flocked across the river to pitch in. By 1942, thousands of Marines were living in and being trained just a few hundred feet north of the community. 

That same year, in Havelock, construction began at Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point. The air station became home to thousands of Marines as well as various squadrons and aircraft repair facilities. Those repair facilities saw active use during the Vietnam War and drove the 488% population spike in Havelock during the 1970s.

Neither Newport nor Sneads Ferry is host of a military base. Neither has witnessed the expansion seen in Jacksonville or Havelock. But of the two, Newport is closer to embracing its status as a military town.

In Newport, town leaders early on saw advantages in putting out the welcome mat by way of a land swap for national forestland to create a large residential neighborhood primarily for military retirees from the air station.

Plans for Newport’s Cherry Point Veterans Mutual Housing Association development were drawn up in 1951, and the first houses were completed before the new streets were paved. The new part of town, also referred to as West Newport, included more than 70 homesites near the still-standing Forest Service fire tower.

Newport today is mainly composed of two areas, the older downtown along old U.S. 70, or Chatham Street, and the more recently developed areas on either side of the U.S. 70 bypass. This divide is clear when looking at historical growth patterns versus the growth that characterizes development connected to Cherry Point. The town has grown from fewer than 500 residents in 1940 to nearly 5,000 residents today. This growth does not take into account the expansion along the U.S. 70 bypass, where the ZIP code that includes the town has ballooned to approximately 10,000 housing units. As Mayor Dennis Barber told Coastal Review, the downtown was small prior to the base’s construction.

“Newport had everything they needed,” Barber said, referring to the community’s resistance to change for much of its history. This resistance led to an outflow of population, as mainly younger residents left the town in search of new opportunities and did not return.

Sneads Ferry, on the other hand, has grappled with its connection to the massive base across the river. Like Newport, the community is in many ways split in two. There is the historic town area near the site of the former ferry, also known as Fulcher’s Landing and home to the Riverview Cafe. This area is the site of the annual Shrimp Festival. It is still tied to the seafood industry. A 2009 Our State feature on Sneads Ferry described the town as one defined by “shrimping, family, and the pleasures of life in flip-flops,” not as a military retirement community.

Beyond the waterfront, Sneads Ferry is growing. Businesses stretch back several miles up and down nearby N.C. 210. These are not historic seafood restaurants and local shops but are modern retail chains, much different from the coastal community at Fulcher’s Landing. 

Newport, meanwhile, continues to embrace its reputation as a small town that attracts current and former military personnel. Mayor Barber said he’d like to see Newport remain a military destination. Barber is a former Coast Guardsman and has been connected to the town for decades, loving both its military connection and its being the kind of small town where “people still wave at each other.”

Meanwhile, Sneads Ferry continues to develop its waterfront. When asked about Sneads Ferry’s future, Lisa Whitman-Grice, director of the Onslow County Historical Museum, credited Camp Lejeune with making the county part of a global community. But she added that despite the trappings of military-related growth, “Sneads Ferry really wants to keep its historical connections.”

Library assistant Amanda Summers agreed. A local with connections to the seafood industry, she noted that “the town is growing and everyone can feel it,” but she rejected the idea that there was any conflict associated with military growth.

Sneads Ferry and Newport continue to be defined by their relationships to the Marine Corps. Both towns welcome more military-related newcomers and the infrastructure challenges associated with rapid growth on the North Carolina coast. These challenges include land use, sewer, and water infrastructure. Newport, for instance, is about to build another water treatment plant, and town officials have touted the town’s exceptional water infrastructure for a municipality of its size.

Despite numerous obstacles and the threat to small-town life, proximity to a military base means money and activity for these towns, both of which many of its residents welcome.

As Dee Lewis, genealogist and volunteer at the History Museum of Carteret County, said when asked about Newport’s future as a military retirement center, “The weather is nice, the people are friendly, and you can golf all year round. Of course people would want to retire there.”

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Beaufort County, a growing center for commerce and sightseeing in coastal North Carolina, is home to two of the state’s oldest towns, its oldest church and dozens of historic houses.

The county is a centerpiece of the Inner Banks, with a state park and several smaller parks to complement its colonial heritage. After centuries of agricultural and small-town life, its history is a big part of Beaufort County’s lure as a tourist destination.

The earliest permanent European settlement in North Carolina was north of Albemarle Sound in the mid-17th century. This colony was mainly based on tobacco and corn cultivation, which took up large swaths of land.

The growing population and soil exhaustion soon led the English to look for more places to settle in the Carolina land grant. One of these areas was along Bath Creek near the Pamlico River. Bath itself was formed in 1690 and laid out by the famed explorer John Lawson. It became North Carolina’s first incorporated town in 1705.

Bath County was organized to administer some of the territory south of Albemarle Sound. It was the first new county in the area. Bath County originally had three subdivisions known as precincts. The western precinct stretched from the Pungo River area to the Pamlico River, according to author David Leroy Corbitt. Originally known as Pampticough Precinct, it became Beaufort Precinct, named for one of the Lords Proprietor, in 1712. Beaufort County did not form until 1739 when Bath County was formally dissolved.

Bath determined the early history of Beaufort County. The town was a temporary home of the pirate Blackbeard. Arguably North Carolina’s most famous pirate, Blackbeard purchased a home in the town and lived there briefly after a pardon from Governor Charles Eden. Historian Robert E. Lee wrote that with Blackbeard in town, “Bath undoubtedly was a lively place … people came great distances to buy merchandise from foreign lands in the shops of Bath. The ordinaries (the hotels of colonial times) and bars were crowded with customers. The village came to life.”

The pirate could not abandon his lawless ways, however. After a few months, he rejected his pardon and took up piracy again off the North Carolina coast. Blackbeard was finally killed in November 1718 off the coast of Ocracoke, about 50 miles from Beaufort County.

Bath was burned during the Tuscarora War and remained small for the next three centuries. Its population reached a peak of 400 in 1900 and is now less than 250. But a number of remarkable early buildings still exist in this sleepy town.

It is home to the oldest church in North Carolina, St. Thomas Episcopal, built in 1734. In her history of eastern North Carolina architecture, Catherine Bishir wrote that the church was “a major accomplishment for its time and place, its small size and simplicity reflecting the challenges of building well in the colony in the early 18th (century).” Bath is also home to the Palmer-Marsh House, built in 1750 and famous for its two large chimneys, and the Bonner House built in 1835.

After the formation of Beaufort County, Washington eventually supplanted Bath and grew to become the center of commerce of the county. Known as “Little Washington,” it was the first town in the country named after George Washington. It was located on the Pamlico River and soon became a considerable town in the region. Washington became the county seat in 1785 and the courthouse was built a year later.

The antebellum period was one of considerable success for Beaufort County landowners. Agricultural wealth resulted from rich soil, especially near the Pamlico River, as well as the widespread practice of slavery.

Over 41% of Beaufort County’s population was enslaved in 1860, according to the Hergesheimer map. Washington and Beaufort County were also centers for free African Americans. According to John Hope Franklin, Beaufort County a considerable number of free African Americans for eastern North Carolina by 1830, a number that roughly doubled by 1860.

The county’s wealth and Washington’s strategic location made it a prime target for the Union during the Civil War. Washington was captured by Union troops in 1862 after Ambrose Burnside’s expedition against eastern North Carolina. It changed hands again in 1864 before falling back under Union control in the final months of the war.

Beaufort County remained dependent on agriculture throughout the 19th and 20th centuries. Tobacco cultivation gave way to peanut and later soybean farming. Cotton farming was also prevalent in the county, with farmers cultivating 11,785 acres according to the 1880 census.

Washington eventually developed into one of eastern North Carolina’s most prosperous small towns. Its burgeoning waterfront hosted considerable business in shipping and shipbuilding. Washington was joined in the ranks of Beaufort County towns by Belhaven, which was incorporated in 1899 and later became the second-largest town in Beaufort County.

In addition to agricultural and commercial success, Washington also was home to a number of well-known people. In the 19th century, some of these residents were connected to politics. Churchill C. Cambreleng, who moved to New York as a teenager, became a noted federal representative and key ally of Andrew Jackson. Arthur Schlesinger Jr. described him as the “crony of (Martin) Van Buren … a small man, inclining toward portliness, alert in expression, friendly in manner …”

Other former residents of the county included Tillie Ehringhaus, wife of Gov. J.B. Ehringhaus and Woodrow Wilson’s Navy Secretary, News & Observer publisher and white supremacy propagandist Josephus Daniels. Those who called Washington home in the past century included politician Henry Covington Bonner, namesake of the Bonner Bridge, and NBA stars Dominique Wilkins and Bam Adebayo. Actor Murray Hamilton, who gained fame for playing the mayor in the 1975 Steven Spielberg film “Jaws,” was also from Beaufort County.

Today, Beaufort County is reorienting its economy to focus more on tourism. Goose Creek State Park attracts about 275,000 visitors yearly, including hikers, campers and kayakers. Washington is home to shops, bed and breakfast inns, and the Bank Bistro, a regionally known restaurant located in an 1854 bank. Belhaven also has a popular restaurant and several B&Bs.

This month marks the 45^th birthday of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail.

Now a 1,175-mile trail from Clingmans Dome, or Kuwohi, in the Smoky Mountains to Jockey’s Ridge on the Outer Banks, the idea for the trail was introduced in Sept. 9, 1977.

Howard Lee, then secretary of the North Carolina Department of Natural Resources and Community Development, proposed, “establishing a state trail between the mountains and the seashore in North Carolina,” according to the Friends of the Mountains-to-the-Sea Trail, or MST, a nonprofit organization that supports and advocates for the trail.

In celebration of the trail’s 45 years, the Friends of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail has planned an online celebration 6:30-8 p.m. Friday, Sept. 9, with special guests Lee, state Division of State Parks and Recreation Director Dwayne Patterson, volunteers Julie “Jester” Gayheart and Austin DuFresne who wrote and produced a five-part video and podcast mini-series called “I Am the MST,” and other names from the trail’s history.  The Zoom is free and open to the public.

“We’re excited to be celebrating 45 years of the MST this year and to look back on how far the trail has come since it was first proposed in 1977,” Brent Laurenz, executive director with the Friends of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, told Coastal Review. “While the route has shifted and changed over time, the overall goal of connecting the mountains and the sea with a simple footpath has never changed.”

There are several short-distance group hikes planned around the state from Thursday to Saturday as part of the birthday weekend, including a few on the coast. 

A Croatan Forest hike and cookout with Roger Mays is scheduled for 9 a.m. Saturday, leaving from the North Carolina Coastal Federation office, 3609 NC 24, in Newport. The hike will be along forest service roads and a visit to Patsy Pond. After the hike, there will be a cookout at the federation office. To make sure there is enough food, RSVP to rmays52@yahoo.com or call at 252 723-1612.

In Pender County, there will be a Surf City Bridge Hike at 9 a.m. Thursday, starting at Soundside Park. The hike along Osgood Canal Greenway is to start at 9 a.m. Friday at Hankins Park, 310 North Walker St., in Burgaw. Also at 9 a.m. Saturday, there will be an informative and historic hike around Moores Creek National Battlefield leaving from the visitor center in Currie. Reserve a spot online for these hikes, call 910-259-1536 or email Tammy Proctor with Pender County at tproctor@pendercountync.gov.

Related: Pender to celebrate Mountains-to-Sea Trail’s 45th birthday

The birthday Zoom celebration Friday should be fun, Laurenz said, and the Friends group is encouraging folks to simply get out for a hike on the trail Saturday or anytime during the month.

He also extended a thank you “to the hard work and vision of some amazing volunteers a video series titled ‘I Am the MST’ will be rolled out during the birthday month” on the MST website.

The Friends group issued a 45-mile challenge during the birthday month. Anyone who completes 45 or more miles by foot anywhere on the trail in September and logs it on the website will be entered to win prizes from Ripstop by the Roll, REI and other supporters. The participant with the highest total mileage at the end of September receives an MST flag.

Laurenz explained that after Lee proposed establishing the state trail in a 1977 speech, volunteer efforts were launched to start building the trail, but that work began to languish in the early 1990s. 

“In an effort to revitalize MST efforts, Friends of the Mountains-to-Sea Trail was formed in 1997. Soon after, the trail was officially incorporated into the North Carolina State Park System in 2000,” Laurenz continued. “In the 25 years since its formation, Friends of the MST has helped the trail grow from a disjointed hodgepodge of trail sections totaling about 325 miles with ill-defined road connections to its current status as a complete, well-defined route across the state with over 700 miles of off-road trail.”

In 2017, the Mountains-to-the-Sea Trail took a step forward when the Coastal Crescent Trail was officially made part of the trail. The Coastal Crescent Trail winds through the southeastern counties of Johnston, Sampson, Cumberland, Bladen, Pender and Onslow counties.

“This route, an alternate to the originally proposed corridor along the Neuse River, was conceived and promoted by Friends of the MST. It strings together several areas of public lands, giving people opportunities to get off the roads for several significant stretches while work is underway to create a more complete off-road route,” he said.

The importance of outdoor spaces like the Mountains-to-Sea Trail was made evident during the height of the pandemic, when people across the state turned to the outdoors for safe recreational activities, Laurenz said.

“Whether they were discovering the joy of being in nature for the first time or rekindling an old passion, North Carolinians showed up at state parks, national parks and trails in every corner of the state to find safe ways to gather together or enjoy time alone outdoors,” he said. “We haven’t seen that interest level wane either, so trails like the MST are so important to provide opportunities for residents and visitors to get outside and enjoy the beauty of North Carolina.”

As for the bigger picture, for those that wish to tackle the entire Mountains-to-Sea Trail, the trail provides an opportunity to see firsthand both the beauty of our state’s natural places and to connect with communities and people along the way, he said.

Laurenz said 2023 is poised to be a big year for new additions and changes to the MST. 

“With a significant investment in state trails included in the 2021 budget, we’ll be able to build new sections of trail, open new bridges and so much more that will have a major impact on the trail,” he explained. “That will be especially true for the southeastern and coastal parts of the state where there is currently less off-road MST and fewer outdoor recreation opportunities in general compared to other parts of the state.”

Also, 2023 will be the Year of the Trail across North Carolina. Laurenz said all trails, from the community park to the urban greenway to the MST, are to come together to celebrate all that trails have to offer and hopefully inspire North Carolinians to get outside and explore our unique trails across the state.

“While the route has shifted and changed over the past 45 years, we’re still inspired by that original vision from Howard Lee to create a trail from the mountains to the sea that is not only a wilderness trail, but also tries to capture the diversity of North Carolina and give walkers “a real feel for the sights, sounds, and people of the state,” Laurenz said.

Those who support the trail with a financial donation of $45 or more during September are to receive MST buttons. Those who raise $450 or more through peer-to-peer fundraising get a personalized pottery mug.

Supporters can also lend a hand during a volunteer workday. Locations and dates are listed on the event calendar.

Cape Lookout National Seashore has about $8 million to go toward repairs of the 1859 lighthouse, but that’s not nearly enough to cover a total rehabilitation. 

Seashore Superintendent Jeff West said recently that not only does he and the rest of the folks at the park want to repair and renovate the 163-foot lighthouse, they also want to get it back to the shape it was in when construction wrapped up in 1859. 

With a total renovation, “The lighthouse will sit there without any maintenance other than painting for about another 50 to 60 years, which would be the long-term, cheapest way to do that,” said West.

The 56-mile protected seashore is made up on a handful of uninhabited barrier islands in Carteret County and is home to assorted historic structures, including the Cape Lookout Lighthouse.

West shared the latest on the lighthouse renovations Aug. 4 during a “Parlor Talk” at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center’s Morehead City gift shop at 806 Arendell St.

The park’s $8 million for lighthouse renovations is several million dollars short of what’s needed. “So that’s something that we’re working on right now, getting that money to rehabilitate the lighthouse.”

The $8 million available, West said, will be spent judiciously to accomplish as much as possible, “but It’s not going to be enough to do what we need to do to fully protect the lighthouse. It’s not going to stop us. We’re going to keep working on it. There’s some other avenues and stuff like that. It’s going to be hard, but I think it’s also worth it, right? That lighthouse means a lot to this area.”

The lighthouse and remaining property was transferred to the National Park Service in 2003 from the U.S. Coast Guard, which still controls the light.

After the Coast Guard turned the lighthouse over to the park service, the “initial inspection identified a lot of issues with the lighthouse, and we went through and did a lot of work on lighthouse,” West said, adding that much was merely surface work that didn’t take care of the long-term issues. 

The need for extensive repairs of the brick lighthouse prevented its opening to the public last season. The lighthouse remains closed. 

The structure is inspected early each year to ensure that it’s safe for visitors to climb. After the 2008 inspection, the structure was closed for repairs until it reopened in 2010. The lighthouse remained open until 2015, when it was again closed because of safety concerns. The lighthouse reopened again in 2017 but only until 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic began. 

In early 2021, West was hopeful about reopening the lighthouse, but safety concerns again prevented that from happening. The inspector and structural engineer recommended keeping the structure closed to the public until repairs were made, and the lighthouse hasn’t opened for climbing since.

“We were in the early throes of doing the lighthouse renovation project,” West said. The design firm had already planned to address the safety concerns as part of that work. “They actually even brought in their structural engineers to take a look at things from that aspect.”

The good news was that all of the main structural components of the lighthouse are sound, but the bad news is that some of what would be considered secondary structural elements, including the stairs, are unsafe.

The spiral stairs leading to the top of the lighthouse are affixed to a cast-iron center column that rises the entire height of the structure. While the center column is in great shape, West said, the stairs need repairs.  

Every single step that is embedded in the brick wall of the lighthouse is rusting, reducing the thickness of the iron and causing damage to the bricks. The crossbeams at each of the seven landings are also embedded into the brick wall and rusting. Work done in the 1980s to reinforce the top of the lighthouse, included embedding metal into the upper structure, “that’s all rusting and cracking now, and by rusting, I mean in some cases to the point where the metal is no longer structurally sound.”  

The ventilation system needs to be rehabilitated.

The windows in the tower were replaced in the 1970s, but not to historical standards, and they allow water intrusion. The window panes at the top of the lighthouse where the beacon is need to be replaced. West said some of those panes are probably original. 

The entire metal top part of the retention ring – the watch level and lantern level at the top of the lighthouse — needs repairs as well.  The recommendation is to remove everything above the tension ring and ship the parts off to a conservator for restoration and preservation before being reinstalled, West said.

Another problem is the paint. When the lighthouse was first built, its bricks were unpainted. In 1873, the now familiar black and white diamond pattern was first applied with lime-based paint, which allowed the structure to breathe. The lime paint didn’t last and required repainting every few years. 

At some point, the lighthouse was covered with paint that was impervious to water vapor. “It kept the water out on the outside but kept water on the inside in, which is bad for structure,” West said. Once water gets into a masonry structure and isn’t able evaporate, it can cause the brick and the mortar to deteriorate. 

“If you go in the lighthouse today or anytime in the last couple of years, there’s a fine red dust there. That’s brick dust and it’s from deteriorating bricks. The mortar itself in between bricks is also deteriorating,” he said. 

West said the park service paid for a study of how to best remove all the layers of paint, down to the brick. The plan is to remove all the paint and then repaint the lighthouse with a modern paint designed to allow masonry structures to breathe. 

“When renovation talk first began, I thought we’re looking at next year,” West said. “Now with the funding shortfall and difficulties with the supply side, I’m thinking we’re going to be lucky if we can get it to the point where we can reopen for the 2025 season.” 

West said rehabilitation work on other Cape Lookout National Seashore structures is either about to begin, underway or complete. 

An environmental assessment was done for Long Point, the narrowest part of North Core Banks, to determine what to do with the rental cabins there. The cabins were damaged during Hurricane Dorian in 2019 and have not been available for guest use since. West said that the initial idea was to rebuild the cabins where they are, but now officials plan to rebuild the cabins 5 miles north, at one of the wider parts of North Core Banks that has not been subject to overwash. 

Additionally, a donor who loves historic structures has over the last few years helped pay for historic preservation, crew and materials, West said. As a result, work began recently in other parts of the Cape Lookout Village Historic District, the 810-acre area that includes the light station, the former Cape Lookout Life-Saving Station, the decommissioned Cape Lookout Coast Guard Station, the remains of a World War II Army coastal defense complex, and former fishing cottages and vacation homes.

West said two buildings are completely finished, the old Coast Guard boathouse is about 90% complete, the Coast Guard galley is getting a new roof and siding on the Les and Sally Moore dwelling complex is planned.  The Barden House, formerly the 1907 keepers’ quarters, is being worked on as well. 

There’s also a project for the life-saving station, which West said is the oldest building. 

“The bones on that building are really, really good,” and the work will be an exterior rehabilitation, including a new roof, siding, paint, windows and doors. The foundation has to be repaired too. “It’s about a $475,000 project that will start next year.”

West said he’s trying to get a number of structures on the leasing program to help maintain the historic buildings. 

“Anyhow, so we’ve got a lot of a lot of things that are happening over there at the cape and I’m pretty excited about that,” he said. “We’ll go there and go through the Cape Village and actually see the structures as they looked.”

More North Carolinians than ever are turning to outdoor recreation as a safe and healthy way to spend time with friends and family.

As the number of visitors increases on the state’s trail system, the trails may require more maintenance, a problem compounded by the effects of more frequent extreme weather. 

North Carolina State Parks reported 19.8 million visitors to its parks and recreation areas in 2020, 2 million more than in 2019, an increase likely associated with the COVID-19 pandemic.

In 2021, visitation grew even more with parks reporting 22.8 million visitors, 3 million more than any previous year on record.

Coastal region trails specialist for the North Carolina Trails Program Bob Taber explained how trails have become popular since COVID-19.

“Whether we’re talking about county parks, state parks, or federal parks, we are seeing a huge influx of people getting out and enjoying trails,” he said.  “And they took a huge hit as far as maintenance.”

COVID-19 is not the only factor influencing the management of North Carolina trail systems. Taber told Coastal Review, “A higher frequency of flooding and drought conditions will play a paramount role in trail maintenance.”

He explained that more extreme weather can cause issues such as trail tread erosion and washed-out boardwalks.

“Changing times means our trail designs need to adapt,” said Taber.

Development director of the North Carolina Conservation Corps Jan Pender said more trails will require intervention and attention as the frequency and severity of storms increases.

“You have so many more places where they’re getting washed out and need more severe intervention,” she said.

Trail design and maintenance

The 2021-22 state budget added $91 million for state and local parks along with trails and beach access. An additional $29 million was allocated for state trails projects. 

The Conservation Corps North Carolina partners with the North Carolina Division of Parks and Recreation and other land managers to create sustainable trail systems, while also engaging young people in conservation service projects.

Not only are organizations focused on building new trails, but also maintaining and redesigning old trails. Taber said that state parks are “essentially trying to better design some of our old trails to be more sustainable.”

When designing and managing a trail, many factors are considered, but Taber and Pender expressed the importance of water.

“The main problem with any trail is water. You’re trying to get runoff off the trail as quick as possible and trying to prevent it flowing down the trail tread. So, it’s all in the design,” said Taber.

“One of the big stressors is a lot of these trails are old and were not sustainably laid out,” said Pender. “If they weren’t laid out to be sustainable, you’re just fighting gravity and water erosion all the time.”

Northern NC Reserve trails

Erik Alnes, the Northern Sites manager for the North Carolina Coastal Reserve & National Estuarine Research Reserve, said that location is the first consideration when building trails in Currituck Banks, Kitty Hawk Woods or Buxton Woods.

In an email response, Alnes explained, “This includes looking at the project area to avoid sensitive soils, plan trail paths on higher ground to avoid sensitive wetland areas, avoid steep slopes and highly erodible soils, and avoid areas where there are rare species and communities.”

“The wetland areas of the northern reserves are very fragile, and we have several rare species and communities that have been found on our sites. This includes globally rare maritime forest community types, as well as state and federally threatened plants,” Alnes continued.

Once the trail is constructed, Alnes explained that best management practices are utilized such as maintaining vegetation on the edge of trails along with keeping a layer of organic material on the trail beds to control erosion.

There are more than 25 miles of trail to be maintained at the Northern Sites, and Alnes added “Our trained volunteers are a huge help to keeping trails trimmed back.”

Reserve officials hope to perform a trail-use study in the fall for Kitty Hawk Woods that will likely be replicated in Currituck Banks and Buxton Woods. This type of study will help officials better understand trail usage in their areas and to improve future trail design and maintenance.

Visiting Trails

Whether hiking, biking, running, or horseback riding, eastern North Carolina trails have a lot to offer visitors throughout the year. There are 41 state parks in North Carolina with more than 580 miles of trails.

“We ask visitors to stay on the trails, use designated access points, and respect other users,” said Alnes.

“The increased traffic is a problem to the ecosystem that these trails are in because what happens is they erode, and people make social trails around them. Then they start trampling on fragile vegetation,” Pender said. “If a trail isn’t working for you, try not to go around that trail, but to stay on the trail. Because that’s where the ecosystem becomes threatened — people walking around that trail and creating trails in areas that are fragile.”

To learn more about what eastern North Carolina trails have to offer, visit NC State Parks or the NC Coastal Reserve sites.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

The earliest permanent settlement of North Carolina by Europeans occurred north of the Albemarle Sound. But increased migration and the desire for land soon pushed those settlers outside of this limited area.

The men and women who moved south of the Sound found a swampy, inhospitable region. Their perseverance helped create Washington County, at one time a prosperous county that gave the state several of its most famous leaders.

The story of Washington County is one of isolation, success and an eventual renewal on the banks of the Roanoke River.

Following the earliest settlement of the Albemarle region in the late 17th century, English immigrants to North Carolina craved more arable land for tobacco cultivation. While some went west, others moved south across the Albemarle Sound.

Early North Carolinians also secured land grants on several of the area’s major rivers. One of these was the Roanoke River, which starts in Virginia and enters North Carolina near present-day Roanoke Rapids. The community that later became Plymouth, located on a bend of the Roanoke River, was first settled in 1727, according to the North Carolina Gazetteer. Other communities like Roper and Mackeys grew up around the county’s creeks and on the sound. 

The area south of the Albemarle Sound remained sparsely populated for several decades. Over time, an increase in population led to the need for more counties. In 1729, the section of North Carolina north of former Bath County and south of Albemarle Sound became Tyrrell County. In 1799, Tyrrell County’s westernmost section became Washington County, named for George Washington.

According to “The formation of the North Carolina counties, 1663-1943” by David Leroy Corbitt, the eastern boundary was a line “beginning at Bull-point … to the centre of the Indian swamp, where the road crosses … [extending] to the west end of lake Phelps… to [the] Hyde county line.” An 1801 annex gave Washington County all of what was then known as Indian Swamp.

In the antebellum period, Washington County was defined by some of the largest plantations in North Carolina. The Roanoke River and Albemarle Sound were ample sources of transportation. Tobacco and corn were planted in the rich soil of river-adjacent districts. The county also had communications with the northern side of Albemarle Sound by way of Mackey’s Ferry. The ferry operated for more than 200 years and was a key link between the older communities north of the Albemarle and the growing regions to the south and west. 

The most prized plantation in the county was Somerset Place, which was founded by a group led by Josiah Collins on Lake Phelps in the 1780s. According to the plantation’s National Register of Historic Places nomination, Collins was a political leader in the state who acquired a massive amount of land, built mills, and introduced agricultural methods new to North Carolina such as rice cultivation. A nearby plantation owner, James Johnston Pettigrew, became a famed Confederate general that was killed at Gettysburg.

As in the rest of the state, slave labor was prevalent. Over 40% of the county’s population was enslaved, according to the Hergesheimer map of 1860. Somerset Place has become noteworthy not only as a center for antebellum wealth but also a site of memory for the hundreds of enslaved African Americans who lived there in the 19th century.

In the 1980s, historian Dorothy Spruill Redford traced the lives of many of these families and helped organized a reunion of around 1,500 descendants of slaves and their owners. The reunion garnered national attention and a number of prominent visitors, including the North Carolina governor and “Roots” author Alex Haley, according to the New York Times.

In his introduction to Redford’s “Somerset Homecoming,” Haley wrote that when he learned of the project, “I was thrilled — thrilled not just at what was happening there that day, but for the connections that such a gathering of families spoke of — for the thread that ran back through the generations and will most surely run ahead into the future.” Redford’s work transformed the interpretation of slavery at Somerset Place and other plantations throughout the South.

During the Civil War, Plymouth played an important role in an often-ignored campaign late in the conflict. In 1864, the Confederacy attempted to take back eastern North Carolina from the Union. Confederate Gen. Robert F. Hoke, along with the ironclad ram Albemarle, launched an exceptional raid that defeated Union leaders Henry W. Wessells and Charles W. Flusser and led to Confederate control of Plymouth.

The victory was short-lived, for Hoke was recalled back to Virginia a few months later and the Union reoccupied the town for the remainder of the war. Research has shown that the Confederates were also responsible for war crimes against African Americans after recapturing the area.

Following the war, Washington County embarked on an economic project like those of surrounding counties in eastern North Carolina. Much of the county remained agricultural. Tenant farming replaced the plantation system, and some farmers moved from tobacco and corn to peanut and truck farming. But in some areas, industry began to take a hold.

This industry centered on Plymouth, where the population doubled between 1900 and 1910. Plymouth became a center for the manufacture of wooden handles, lumber, and paper. Industrial prosperity led to the construction of the neoclassical Washington County Courthouse in 1919.

During the 19th and 20th centuries, numerous notables called Washington County home. These included stage director Augustin Daly, author and activist Don Brown, and NFL linebacker Charles Bowser.

Comedian J.B. Smoove, known for his work on HBO’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” was born in Plymouth and often visited his maternal relatives there.

These famous residents did not lead to prosperity in the county, however. Following the decline of industry, Washington County became one of the poorest in the state. Unemployment remained high and the town of Plymouth emptied out, losing population every decade from 1970 to the present.

Today, Washington County is showing signs of renewal. Farms still dominate the landscape, and agriculture remains the primary economic engine. But the county is also starting to attract tourism. Somerset Place and Pettigrew State Park attract thousands of visitors each year. Plymouth has been the site of new development, especially on its waterfront. There are new restaurants and several museums in the town, along with several historic restoration projects.

The county’s towns also benefit from Outer Banks traffic because of their location on U.S. 64. But because of its distance from the beach or major towns such as Elizabeth City or Greenville, Washington County will likely remain a testament to North Carolina’s agricultural, small-community past.

Nearly 300 years ago, settlers made their way to what is now Swansboro, a quiet little town where the White Oak River meets the Intracoastal Waterway in Onslow County.

Before the settlers, there was a village of Native Americans in the Algonkian tribe driven from the area after they joined the Tuscaroras in a 1711 attack on New Bern. The town, founded in 1730 where the village once stood, was incorporated in 1783 and named Swannsborough after Samuel Swann, who had been speaker of the North Carolina House of Commons, according to information on the town government website.

Early in the town’s history, livelihoods depended on shipbuilding, then lumber and naval stores, and, in the mid-20^th century, on the commercial fishing industry. The “Friendly City by the Sea” has a population of about 3,744, according to the 2020 Census, and draws visitors to its downtown for festivals, shopping, dining and to see the historic homes and businesses, many of which were built in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Some date back centuries.

The town and the Swansboro Historic Preservation Commission have been awarded a 2021 federal Historic Preservation Fund grant to update its more than 30-year-old architectural survey that details these homes and other historic structures in the 32-acre downtown area, about 1/20th of a square mile,, the state announced Thursday.

Swansboro Planner Jennifer H. Ansell told Coastal Review that this new survey will replace the previous 32-year-old survey conducted as a part of the town’s National Register of Historic Places nomination to create the district. The register recognizes 123 properties in Swansboro’s district. Of those, 77 are considered contributing properties, which add to the historical character or meets National Register criteria within a National Historic Landmark district. The town worked with Onslow County to create an online interactive map of the district.

“Many properties have been demolished, moved, or otherwise significantly modified since the original survey, so this new survey will provide an updated inventory of the properties within the Historic District,” Ansell said.

Elizabeth King, architectural survey coordinator for the North Carolina State Historic Preservation Office, told Coastal Review that the total project budget is $15,000 with $6,000 coming from the town and $9,000 through the Certified Local Government grant, awarded by the National Park Service and administered through the State Historic Preservation Office of the North Carolina Office of Archives and History. The Certified Local Government Program encourages state and local governments to work with federal partners to promote nationwide preservation initiatives and commit to national historic preservation standards, according to the National Park Service.

King said that an architectural survey provides a baseline of data about the significance, integrity and condition of historic buildings and landscapes and orients individual buildings within their historic context.

“It is the basis for evaluating eligibility for the National Register of Historic Places, certificate of appropriateness review, and many other types of preservation planning.  It can contribute to heritage tourism and economic development,” she said.

The town hired Richard Grubb & Associates, a Wake Forest-based cultural resources consulting firm, to manage the project. Preliminary fieldwork is expected to begin this month and the project is anticipated to be finished no later than September, officials said.

For the survey, fieldworkers will document buildings and landscapes 50 years old and older by taking photographs, drawing site plans and collecting oral history from those they meet on-site. The fieldworkers will do some archival research to determine any patterns of historical development. The Swansboro Architectural Survey Update is to be wrapped up in a final report summarizing the results once complete, according to the state.

The survey is to be within the boundaries of both the National Register-listed Swansboro Historic District, registered in 1990 and one of 540 historic districts on the National Register, and the locally designated Swansboro Historic District, which the town determines. While these two districts overlap, the boundaries do not.

Ansell explained that the town’s two districts can cause confusion.

“The boundaries of the two do not totally coincide with one another, which is confusing to citizens and presents a challenge for enforcement of the local ordinance and in educating citizens on the opportunities available to them,” she said, citing tax credits for example. Owners and developers could receive 20% federal income tax credit and a 15 to 25% state income tax credit for certified rehabilitations of income-producing historic structures on the National Register of Historic Places, either individually or as a contributing building in a National Register Historic District, according to the state.

“This survey will enable us to decide if the boundaries should be merged, and if properties should be added or removed,” Ansell said, adding, “Hopefully it will aid in streamlining the process because we will have updated property information and possibly clearer boundaries.”

The survey can be used to educate the public on the town’s historic resources, and provide updated information for stakeholders such as owners, businesses, visitors, realtors, attorneys, as well, Ansell added.

King said that the town qualified for the grant because it is a Certified Local Government, making Swansboro eligible to apply for matching grants for certain types of historic preservation projects. 

The town submitted an application to resurvey the National Register and local historic districts last year, and “we agreed to contribute funds provided by the National Park Service and administered by our office, the State Historic Preservation Office,” King said.

Public access to the information will be available through HPOWEB, the Historic Preservation Office’s geographic information system, accessible online.

The survey material will be considered in the environmental review necessary for state and federal projects. The survey can also be used to help plan future economic and community development projects, official said.

For more information on the survey contact King at elizabeth.king@ncdcr.gov or 919-814-6580, or Ellen Turco of Richard Grubb & Associates, principal investigator, at eturco@rgaincorporated.com.

NAVASSA – There have been times when Al Beatty has been afraid to look at Reaves Chapel as he’s driven by.

Jesica Blake felt a swift wave of nausea when she watched the chapel, built in the mid-1800s, visibly shake as its steeple was lifted off the roof a couple of years ago.

More than one conversation between the two have started with the question, “Is it still standing?”

Remarkably, Reaves Chapel, one of the oldest African American buildings in southeastern North Carolina is, indeed, still standing after falling into dilapidation since a congregation last met within its walls more than 15 years ago.

Since then, the small chapel built by people formerly enslaved at Cedar Hill Plantation has weathered tropical storms and hurricanes. Termites have feasted on its wooden bones.

The weight of the steeple, which holds a small, but impressively heavy bell, began to cause the chapel to tilt to one side.

The race against time to restore the chapel before it toppled to the ground weighed heavy on Beatty, president of the Cedar Hill/West Bank Heritage Foundation, and Blake, North Carolina Coastal Land Trust associate director.

“It would have never survived another tropical storm,” Beatty said, surveying the chapel’s new flooring on a recent, cold February morning.

It was the first time he walked inside the chapel, its floor too rotted to safely hold a person, in more than a year.

“This is fantastic,” Beatty said, a smile beaming across his face. “It’s past great. It’s fantastic.”

Roughly half of the $1 million it will cost to restore the building, landscape the chapel’s grounds, build a separate building for restrooms and a parking lot, has been collected through fundraising efforts headed by the land trust, foundation and Historic Wilmington Foundation.

The Coastal Land Trust purchased the little more than half an acre on which the chapel now sits just off Cedar Hill Road in Navassa, the Brunswick County town nestled at the confluence of the Cape Fear and Brunswick rivers.

Ed Reaves, a former Cedar Hill Plantation slave, donated the land in 1911, which was around the time the chapel was relocated by its congregation, the members of which used logs and a team of oxen, to move it inland from the bluffs of the Cape Fear River.

The church eventually became affiliated with the African Methodist Episcopal denomination and remained an AME church until its doors closed permanently in the mid-2000s.

As a child, Beatty attended the church with his family. He recalls the Easter Sunday programs when he and the other children, dressed in their Sunday best, had to recite short speeches intertwined with scripture, from the pulpit.

“Everybody had a speech,” Beatty said. “Everyone.”

Beatty helped form the Cedar Hill/West Bank Foundation in 2011 in an effort to save the chapel. The foundation officially gained nonprofit status two years later.

Early attempts to buy the chapel were unsuccessful. The land trust, which had been working with Navassa as the town began going through a process with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency to remediate the former Kerr-McGee Superfund Site, eventually stepped in and offered to help pick up the cause to save the chapel, purchasing the land with a grant from the Orton Foundation.

“It’s a piece of American history that we are honored to help protect,” Blake said.

The church is being restored to how it was in 1911, when a cubby-like addition was built at the front of the church to hold a choir.

Today, the chapel’s white paint is grayed and chipped. Evidence of water damage marks parts of the ceiling and walls.

Portions of exposed, wooden frame of the building are peppered with holes gnawed by termites. “Real, old-fashioned nails,” as Beatty refers to them, still hold the frame together.

But the bones are good, a testament to the craftsmen who built the chapel more than a century ago.

Beatty said he’s yet to bring first-time visitors to the chapel who were not immediately drawn to its allure.

“The church becomes a part of them,” he said.

Balding Brothers, a Wilmington-based company that specializes in historic building restoration, is overseeing the project.

Since restoration work began late last year, the church’s foundation has been stabilized by some of the original concrete blocks that have held up the church for years. New, brick pilings have been added along the foundation’s sides.

Three stain glass windows, including a triangular-shaped window over the double-door entrance, have been removed and sent off for cleaning and restoration at a hefty price tag of $50,000.

A shipping container next to the chapel, which is enclosed temporarily by a tall, chain link fence, is used as storage for items taken out of the chapel, such as pews and the steeple bell.

Out of site of the chapel grounds, back in the woods that lead to the Cape Fear River bluffs, is the chapel cemetery.

About 10 or so headstones are in that area. More than 70 depressions in the ground signal more graves.

“We are in the process of restoring that and getting a catalog,” of those graves, Beatty said.

The organizations are working with the North Carolina State Historic Preservation Office to have the chapel and its cemetery designated a state historic site, one that would eventually be tied in with nationally-recognized places of historic significance related to the Gullah Geechee.

Gullah Geechee are descendants of West Africans taken from their country and enslaved on rice, indigo and Sea Island cotton plantations of the lower Atlantic coast.

Reaves Chapel would be the northern anchor of the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, which encompasses 12,000 square miles of coastal area that runs up the southern Atlantic Coast from St. John’s County, Florida, to Onslow County.

Efforts are underway to connect the corridor with the East Coast Greenway in Brunswick County. The greenway is a 3,000-mile walking and biking route that runs through 15 states from Maine to Florida.

The Gullah Geechee Greenway/Blueway Heritage Trail project will be designed to intertwine outdoor activities, including walking, bicycling and paddling, with the history and culture of the Gullah Geechee.

There is also a proposal in the works to build in Navassa a cultural heritage center, a place that will further educate visitors about the history and culture of the Gullah Geechee.

Blake said the goal is to get the state to take ownership of the chapel. Ultimately, Beatty said, the plan is to get the site on the National Park Service’s National Register Historic of Historic Places.

Blake said, though lofty, she hopes the chapel restoration will be complete by year’s end.

Part of a history series examining each of North Carolina’s 20 coastal counties.

Currituck County is arguably better known than all of the other Albemarle counties. But it is not known for its 17^th century settlers or its roots of American Quakerism like other nearby counties.

Instead, Currituck County contains a stretch of the Outer Banks, a region of sand and surf visited by over 1 million people each year. But Currituck County’s history is more than beach homes and recreation. It is a county of agriculture, political leadership, and stories of intriguing people who lived on both sides of Currituck Sound.

The best way to understand the history of this unique county is by its two geographic halves. The western half of Currituck County, stretching from North River to Currituck Sound and the Virginia border, was settled around 1650 as part of the Virginian migration to the Albemarle region. According to David Leroy Corbitt, Currituck started out as one of the original precincts of Albemarle County before becoming a county of its own in 1739.

One of the earliest settlers was Thomas Jarvis, who originally lived in Perquimans County near leaders such as George Durant and Nathaniel Batts. Jarvis eventually served on the governor’s council and as deputy governor of North Carolina. Before his death in 1694, Jarvis moved to his plantation on Whites Island in Currituck County, now known as Church Island east of Coinjock. 

The Jarvis family ended up being one of the most influential in the county’s history. Samuel Jarvis was a longtime political leader in the county who fought in the Revolution according to David Stick. Thomas Jordan Jarvis served as governor of North Carolina and helped to found what later became East Carolina University.

Agriculture has dominated the history and economy of Currituck County’s western half. Early wheat and tobacco culture was supplemented by logging and shingle production from the trees in the county’s swamps. These pursuits, like nearly all agricultural processes in eastern North Carolina at this time, used slaves. According to the Hergesheimer map of 1860, Currituck’s population was 35% enslaved, which was the lowest total in the Albemarle yet higher than 45 other North Carolina counties.

In transportation, Currituck County benefitted from one of North Carolina’s few antebellum canals. The Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal, completed in 1857 as noted in Alexander Crosby Brown’s book, connected the Albemarle Sound with Norfolk by way of a channel cut through Currituck County at the town of Coinjock. There was also a port in Currituck County for a time, but it was always of negligible size and ceased to function when Currituck Inlet closed up in the 18^th century.

Like Camden County to the west, there are no incorporated towns in Currituck County. The largest communities in the western half are Moyock, Grandy, and Coinjock. Currituck is a small community on Currituck Sound that contains the historic jail and the 19^th century courthouse, a sizable brick structure described by Ruth Little-Stokes as having notable neoclassical details.

One of North Carolina’s few remaining Rosenwald schools, which are schools built for African Americans in the early 20th century, is currently being restored nearby. Currituck also contains a ferry to Knotts Island, a historic island in Currituck Sound that contains a wildlife refuge and a vineyard.

The eastern half of Currituck County has a much different history dominated by tourism and the shifting nature of the Outer Banks. Known as Currituck Banks, this section used to be an island until Currituck Inlet at the northern edge closed up in the 19^th century. Until the formation of Dare County in 1870, Currituck County’s eastern section originally stretched down to the area of present-day Kitty Hawk; the current border, a line north of Duck, used to be the now-filled Caffey’s Inlet. 

The first European to visit the area may have been Giovanni De Verazzano, who explored parts of the Outer Banks in 1524. Early settlers were few and far between. William Byrd discussed two of them in a tale relayed by David Stick in his “History of the Outer Banks.” The residents described by Byrd were hermits who lived in a hut, “subsisted chiefly upon Oysters,” and wore no clothing except for their beards and hair.

In the mid-19th century, Currituck Banks began to attract wealthy visitors. Motivated by stories of massive flocks of geese, the first shooting club opened in the area in 1874. It was followed in 1922 by the Whalehead Club, an ornate lodge occupying 35 acres of what was then undisturbed marsh.

One of North Carolina’s famed lighthouses, the Currituck Beach Light, was built in 1875 in the community of Corolla. It is tied for the second-tallest lighthouse in North Carolina with the Bodie Island Light and can be climbed several months out of the year.

By the 1920s, eastern Currituck County started to open up to tourists from across the country. Tourism was facilitated by the Good Roads Movement and a number of essential bridges, most notably the Baum Bridge in 1928 and the Wright Memorial Bridge in 1930. Visitors enjoyed the white sand beaches, hunting grounds, and the wild horses in Corolla.

Eventually, Carova Beach became a secluded tourist destination. It is notable for being only accessible by boat or by driving on the beach. As Kip Tabb wrote in a 2017 article on development at the beach, “Although traffic has been increasing, the lack of infrastructure and paved roads has kept visitation modest by comparison to other parts of the Outer Banks.”

The differences between eastern and western Currituck County are stark. Eastern Currituck County’s population swells in the summer months to about 50,000 people, more than double the year-round population of the entire county. Tourists are limited in the western half while comprising nearly the entire economy of the eastern half.

The vacationers and tourists on Currituck Banks include some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world. Former Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia owned a house in Corolla, and Bill Gates was rumored in 2021 to have once rented one. In contrast, western Currituck County, which is the home of the majority of Currituck’s 1,377 African Americans, is rural, isolated and mostly free from celebrity sightings.

These disparate situations between the two halves will only continue to grow. The western half will likely be bolstered by the mid-Currituck bridge and the growth of Elizabeth City and Hampton Roads. This section of Currituck County may become either a stop on the way to the Outer Banks or a distant bedroom community for Chesapeake and Suffolk, Virginia.

The eastern half, on the other hand, will continue to attract tourists but is cut off from Virginia by False Cape State Park, which does not allow vehicular access from North Carolina. These differing paths and experiences give Currituck County its character and make it one of the most remarkable counties in all of North Carolina.

Two Sound Rivers employees recently embarked on a five-day kayaking trip down the Pamlico River, a reconnaissance mission to document environmental conditions that started Oct. 17 in Washington and ended in Swan Quarter.

Over the course of these 70 river miles, the paddlers would observe the beauty of the river and note any issues they noticed along the way.

Sound Rivers is a nonprofit advocacy group that aims to protect the health of the Tar-Pamlico and Neuse River basins.

Last year, after canceling many of their normal community events because of the pandemic, they tried out a kayaking adventure down the Tar River. They documented their journey on social media to engage the community.

This year, they’re at it again, this time exploring a different section of their designated waters. The paddlers are Pamlico-Tar Riverkeeper Jill Howell and Environmental Projects Coordinator Clay Barber. A nonpaddling, but still participatory passenger is Miller, Howell’s 53-pound puppy.

As a riverkeeper, Howell’s eyes were fixed on the environmental issues she noticed along the way. Barber’s passion is accessibility to watersports and to the river itself. As they paddled down the Pamlico, both hoped to learn a little bit more about the resource that they steward, and share that information with the community.

Day 1

Howell and Barber’s journey was preempted by a supportive send-off from the Havens Garden Kayak Launch in Washington. A handful of folks from the community came out to participate in a trash cleanup at the site and watch the paddlers embark on their journey. A few friends joined the paddle for a while before exiting the river as the travelers went on their way.

This first day included 8 miles of paddling through a residential stretch along the Pamlico’s shores. Then they traveled up Broad Creek, passing marshy banks and cypress trees with hanging moss along the way. Though sunny and warm, the wind picked up and Howell and Barber encountered choppy waters. Barber, paddling in a sea kayak, kept getting splashed from behind. On days like this, he said, a spray skirt is a helpful piece of gear that can protect you from getting damp.

Howell and Barber also paddled through an expansive fish kill on the first day. Fish kills can be caused by algal blooms or oxygen depletion in the water. Nutrient pollution can be a contributor to the problem, which happens frequently this time of year. While they weren’t surprised to see fish kills on their trip, Howell said they’re a major problem plaguing the river.

“They’re a sign that the waters are in distress,” Howell said.

Since fish kills occur so often, Howell said it’s not uncommon for people to feel a little desensitized to them. But she hopes that people will report them to Sound Rivers or the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality each time they see one, regardless of size. Howell noted that underreporting is a concern and it’s important to have observational data for understanding the magnitude of the problem.

The paddlers arrived early at the Hindsley Platform, a reservable campsite that is 16 by 32 feet and surrounded in part by mesh netting. Accessible only by water, it’s located about 2 miles up Broad Creek from the Pamlico.

Miller, the pup who was perhaps less enthused about sitting in a kayak all day, was excited to run around and explore the swampy terrain. He quickly found and chased nutria living near the site. Nutria are a nonnative, semiaquatic rodent species from South America first introduced to the United States in 1889.

This first night, Howell and Barber slept in hammocks. They brought bug netting to cover themselves just in case any critters were to make it inside the enclosure. Dinner was macaroni and cheese with chili.

Day 2

A chilly night with a low of 44 degrees broke into a beautiful, sunny day at the Hindsley Platform.

“The best thing you can do for cold weather is to have multiple layers of clothing,” Barber said.

The type of material also matters, added Barber. Cotton is OK for a short outing in dry conditions. But for a multiday trip, he recommended polyester, spandex or other synthetic fibers that dry quickly and keep you warm.

“Choose your materials wisely,” Barber said.

Barber stayed warm despite the cool night temperatures thanks to a $4 sleeping bag from Goodwill. Barber’s passion for accessibility includes overcoming financial barriers to recreation.

“Don’t let anybody tell you you’ve got to spend a whole ton of money on camping gear,” Barber said. “Just be smart about what you’re buying.”

The second day was another short paddle, only about 9 miles. They paddled down Broad Creek and across the Pamlico River to Blounts Bay and a little bit up Blounts Creek, which is where they planned to stay the night. Midday was hot and the paddlers broke out the sunscreen – there was no shade. It was windy and choppy, which Barber’s sea kayak handled well, but the waves were more difficult to maneuver in Howell’s 12-foot, sit-on-top kayak. Fortunately, the wind died down as they made it into Blounts Bay, making for easier paddling.

That night, they were met at the dock by Sound Rivers member Bob Daw. Daw has been fishing the area for long enough to elaborate on depths and fishing conditions in every part of Blounts Creek.

Blounts Creek is a bit of a deviation from the route to Swan Quarter, but Barber and Howell intentionally wrote this stop into their itinerary. Sound Rivers is a party to ongoing litigation that started about eight years ago when the group and others, including Coastal Review’s publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation, challenged a permit for a new 649-acre limestone mine to discharge 12 million gallons of water per day into the creek.

Blounts Creek is a brackish environment, slightly salty. Adding substantial amounts of freshwater will completely change the ecosystem, said Howell. Sound Rivers’ objection isn’t to the mine itself, but to the discharge into Blounts Creek and the changes that could occur in the environment as a result.

All of this could go away, Daw said, looking around.

The paddlers feasted on a fresh fish dinner with Daw and friends. Daw’s fish fries are famous in the area. Someone broke out a guitar, and everyone enjoyed the opportunity for live music.

Howell and Barber stayed the night at Chocowinity’s Cotton Patch Landing on Blounts Creek, The RV campground is neatly maintained and features a boat ramp and a shop where you can purchase supplies and rent kayaks and other gear. They don’t typically allow tent camping but made an exception for the Sound Rivers crew.

“We know that we couldn’t do our work generally without people, but we especially couldn’t do something like this paddle trip if we were on our own and didn’t have people offering all sorts of support along the way,” Howell said.

Before calling it a night, Barber walked down to the dock. He watched the vibrant fish activity before turning in. Longer distances were anticipated for the next few days, so the paddlers planned for an early start.

Day 3

On the third day, the paddlers embarked on a 13-mile trip back to and across the Pamlico and then up Bath Creek.

The first two days’ paddles were difficult because of the chop, but the wind subsided on Day 3 and the river was smooth as glass. Even with two stops, the paddlers maintained a speed of better than 2 mph, according to Barber’s GPS device.

“It was a dreamy paddle day,” Barber said.

They passed Goose Creek State Park, which Barber praised for its camping area, swimming beach and a boardwalk through the swampy parts.

The birdwatching was excellent all day with bald eagles, egrets and kingfishers making appearances. But there was also more dead fish.

The paddlers had thought the previous day would mark the end of the fish kills they’d seen earlier in the trip. Day 3 proved them wrong.

“It was the worst that we’ve seen it,” Howell said.

They saw numerous dead and decaying menhaden and other fish, sputtering around with sores, clearly close to death.

“These are not supposed to be happening,” Howell said.

Estimating the number of dead fish they’d seen so far was hard to do, said Howell, but it had to be at least tens of thousands.

They’d seemingly paddled out of the fish kill by the time they made it to their next camping spot. On Night 3, they slept on a sandy beach on Bath Creek — perfect for camping. They planned to get up bright and early the next morning to set off for the Pungo River — about 20 miles — their longest paddle yet.

Day 4

Howell and Barber awoke to find dead fish washing up on their beach — the fish kill had followed them downriver. There were more dead fish ahead during the first half of their day.

“The fish kill has been with us this whole time,” Howell said.

On this morning they also passed the Nutrien phosphate mine in Aurora. The mine was big enough and close enough it was visible from their kayaks. Phosphate mining only occurs in a handful of states, but the U.S. is one of the world’s largest producers. Most mined phosphate is used to make fertilizer but it’s used in all kinds of household and industrial products.

“There are many concerns with having a giant phosphate mine so close to the river, but especially as it relates to weather and hurricanes and flooding,” Howell said.

About 10 miles into Day 4’s paddle down the Pamlico, the group met up with colleagues to discuss what they’d seen. They spent this night at a member’s house on the Pungo River. Howell and Barber said they were lucky to have found accommodations through their Sound Rivers connections — places to stay are few and far between in this section of river. Most shorelines in this stretch are privately owned.

“It’s lacking the guaranteed public access that I would love to see on this section of the river,” Barber said, observing that they were the only kayaks they’d seen in 10 miles. “I think it would just be different if there was more public access.”

Miller fell off the boat on Day 4, but he was fine.

Staying with a Sound Rivers member meant they could shower and eat well — allowing them to properly prepare for their fifth and final day. Reports indicated the wind would pick up substantially, so they needed to decide at the end of the Pungo whether they could continue. They slept on the member’s porch under a big orange moon.

Day 5

Howell and Barber woke up in time to watch the sunrise.

They wanted an early start — their river journey would culminate with a stretch of about 18 miles. They had worried about the wind, but it didn’t seem to be too bad when the paddlers first set out. The open section of the Pamlico is the only potentially questionable part of Day 5’s paddle, and after that they moved into a more protected section before reaching their destination, Swan Quarter.

This section of the river is more undeveloped than previous. The difference is noticeable.

“Immediately, you can see how much better these marsh grasses do dissipating the wave action that comes in,” Barber said. It made for smoother paddling.

The grasses act as a natural buffer, effectively reducing erosion.

The paddlers made it to the boat ramp at Swan Quarter after a windy afternoon. They had wind at their side, making it extremely choppy.

“I feel like I just went through the dishwasher,” Barber said.

Miller was relieved to be onshore.

The wind continued forcefully as Howell and Barber debrief at the boat ramp. This year’s paddle is done, but they plan to continue exploring how to best protect rivers like the Pamlico.

Sound Rivers has one more event this year. The premiere of a documentary called “A Sound River” is set for Nov. 30. The documentary details the beauty of and issues affecting North Carolina’s coastal rivers — much like Howell and Barber’s five-day trip.

To virtually attend the premiere free of charge, RSVP via the Sound Rivers website.

Editor’s note: Bland Simpson is a friend of the North Carolina coast and of the entire Tar Heel State. He’s a friend and supporter of Coastal Review and an occasional contributor. Likewise, he’s a friend of our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation, having served long and faithfully on its board of directors.

He’s the Kenan Distinguished Professor of English and Creative Writing at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, where he has taught since 1982.

He’s an accomplished musician, having been the award-winning Red Clay Ramblers’ piano player since 1986. His music career dates back to an earlier time, the heyday of the singer-songwriter.

Bland recently marked the 50th anniversary of his early ’70s quartet’s Columbia Records album, “Simpson” with a remastered release available at blandsimpson.bandcamp.com. All proceeds from the album’s sales go to the Food Bank of Central & Eastern North Carolina.

He has collaborated on numerous musicals, including “King Mackerel & The Blues Are Running” and “Kudzu,” and he has written numerous books about North Carolina.

His latest work, “North Carolina: Land of Water, Land of Sky,” with photography by additional friends of ours, his wife and collaborator Ann Cary Simpson, Scott Taylor and current federation board member Tom Earnhardt, is set for release Tuesday by UNC Press.

An in-person and online streaming book launch event is set for 5:30 p.m. Tuesday at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill. Flyleaf Books is offering seating for up to 25 in-person guests, with priority access given to those who purchase the book. If you preorder a copy through Flyleaf, you are asked to use the order comments form to indicate whether you would like one or two seats held for you at the in-person event. To purchase a copy of the book and/or register for the in-person event, visit https://www.flyleafbooks.com/event/simpson-2021.

The following is adapted from “North Carolina: Land of Water, Land of Sky,” by Bland Simpson, with photography by Ann Cary Simpson, Scott Taylor and Tom Earnhardt. Copyright © 2021 by Bland Simpson. Used by permission of the publisher, www.uncpress.org. 

         
Pecans

Not far from the river, just south of Elizabeth City, a large grove of pecan trees once grew, and cattle grazed lazily there. I never ventured into it, only rode past it on my bicycle, stopping whenever I was out that way (some miles from our home near Horner’s Sawmill) just to regard the blithe, benign way the modestly-spaced pecan tree leaves distributed light to the forested pasture below, the cattle chewing at leisure in their dappled light.

No other large trees growing so closely together, except beech perhaps, let so much light through their branches and crowns and still maintained shade: a bright shade, if you will. Just east of town, across the Camden causeway on the old Sawyer plantation, stood another such grove, which we passed often, on our way to see our Ferebee cousins in Camden and on our way to the Outer Banks.

At the age of eight, I had not yet fully formed my thoughts about the nature of pecan trees and the properties of sunlight shining upon and through them. That would come much later, when I started rambling around eastern Carolina in my twenties and noticing how many farmsteads, large and small, had pecan groves off to the side – two acres, maybe, or twenty – of the main house, or had the main house standing within them.  Sometimes only the old groves still stood, the homestead itself long gone. 

Here in Beaufort, at our family’s house on Orange Street in sight of Taylor’s Creek and only a couple miles from the widening inlet to the sea, five pecan trees held down the fort – two small ones out by the street, three large ones in the back yard. Summer evenings we sat under them and listened as ocean breezes and winds blew through them, sometimes mildly, sometimes vigorously with the full authority of Neptune’s Atlantic. They made a fresh, brushing sound that rose and fell, and the little postage-stamp of a yard seemed enclosed by the sound as much as by the body and branches of the big pecan trees themselves, and I loved the way the southerly breezes of summer soughed through their feathery leaves at night with the softest shushing, insistent, though, like all the sighs of the world.   

There was a long view out from under one of them, and through it one’s eye was drawn to a pair of massive pecan trees, lovely twin sisters seventy-five yards to our north, whose crowns danced and swayed in the summertime almost with abandon, showing me in their dancing the inlet winds, the winds that have come here unabridged and uninterrupted and unimpeded all the way from the wide Sargasso Sea. How often and how long I stared and wondered: a cleft in the high, billowing crown of one of those two pecan trees might just be a portal to another world.

So it was that (till one fateful night here in Beaufort, when Hurricane Florence felled one of the sisters) the two dancing pecan trees who were there for so many years swayed, presenting hypnotic delight and delight only, and the hands of the Great Choreographer who directed it all were at play, at play, at play.

The Battle of Rich Inlet

Several of us met about six years ago at the NC Coastal Federation’s Fred and Alice Stanback Environmental Education Center, our regional headquarters in Wrightsville Beach, and went on down with the Federation’s skiff and put in at the Lee’s Cut landing. Just after nine on a hot, blue-sky late August morning, we motored on up the Waterway, the Federation’s genial and skillful advocate Mike Giles at the helm, to the southern channel that would lead us over to Figure Eight Island’s soundside and then on to Rich Inlet itself.

First we would pick up Derb Carter, rock-steady leader of the Southern Environmental Law Center with his powerful ringing baritone and North Carolina Audubon’s coastal waterbirds champion Walker Golder at Figure Eight and continue past the huge, growing, hundred-acre tidal flat to a spot where we could film and tell a tale: why this natural inlet did not need that billion-dollar community’s board-of- directors-proposed 16,000-ton rock-and-sheet pile wall (a terminal groin, in engineering and political parlance) cutting through it.

And putting an end to the tidal flat and the living breathing inlet as we knew it. 

We beached on the upper back side of Figure Eight Island long enough to collect Derb and Walker and to wish a top-of-the-morning to one of our state’s most noted conservationists, Fred Stanback of Salisbury. Fred, lean and wry, stood at ease in the morning sun right at the shallows.

“Sure you don’t want to come on with us, Fred?” asked Tom Earnhardt of Exploring North Carolina, who was directing and producing this project. Fred smiled and shook his head.

“You all have a good day out there,” he said, standing still and unwavering, an elder statesman by the water’s edge as we pushed off, waving and calling to us when we were twenty yards out:     

“Good luck!” 

This honorable man and his wife Alice split their time between the island and their home in Salisbury. They had staked much of their family’s resources on preserving and protecting North Carolina’s natural world, and no one close to the task believed our state’s environmental movement would have been so strong, or accomplished so much, without them.

Soon, under Mike Giles’ sure piloting, we were on the far side of Rich Inlet, looking back at the enclave that seemed small and unthreatening at a distance, the sun climbing now and the wind picking up, and Walker pointed to the tawny sea oats waving in the breeze and recalled:

“I was out here recently, last October, very early in the morning with my son. And the shaft of every one of these sea oats was covered with monarchs that had spent the night on them, as they were migrating. When the sun came up and as the day warmed, the monarchs climbed slowly up the sea oats, till the top one on each shaft reached the tip, and then it’d take off, singly, and fly away, and that just kept on, till at last they were all away.” 

We would stay out on the lower, southwest end of Lea-Hutaff Island (which NC Audubon would later preserve in the summer of 2019) for over half the day, finding different spots to shoot, moving around and up the back side of the island, staying out of the wind, walking in the creeks. Minnows swam around my feet, gulls swept in to caw and check us out, white egrets glided by without comment. 

Our argument was compelling: Rich Inlet had a two-hundred-year history of migrating back and forth within a half-mile range, now close-in to Figure Eight, now close to Lea-Hutaff; a groin channel would finish off the inlet’s tidal flat forever and its abundant wildlife would disappear; all the island’s homeowners would have to finance privately the multi-million-dollar jetty, not just those whose homes were proximate to it; and, should it later be judged environmentally deleterious, a high likelihood we thought, all the homeowners would also be on the hook for the groin’s future multi-million-dollar removal.    

Once we wrapped, several of us boated back down to the Dockside on the Waterway near the Wrightsville Beach bridge. After more than half a day walking around in the shallows out in the great wide open, telling the story of just what was in the balance here, barefoot and pants-legs rolled, sitting down for a few minutes in the shade felt right good to me, face to face with a tall glass of sweet tea and an agreeably large crabcake sandwich. 

That moment would live in my memory as one of the truly grand days I have ever been given, the broad green plain of marsh and all those interwoven creeks we worked in, the purpose that had brought us there, the pitched battle to preserve North Carolina’s last natural inlet that was moving and flowing just as God had flung it there, and then, too, just being out there together with these wonderful cohorts, bonded by it all. I simply sailed up through the flat eastern terraces and back to the hill country of western Orange County that evening, replaying the moments and thinking a good long while about what it might mean, what it could mean to so many – men, women and children who loved this inlet, boated to it often and who were joined in this effort; fish, turtles, birds, and butterflies in migration, stopping off by the thousands in that small patch of Rich Inlet sea oats for one good night’s rest – for all those devoted to keeping this piece of the Lord’s handiwork intact, simply to have done the right thing for the right reason.

When word came forth a year and a quarter later that the Figure Eight homeowners had taken stock of this potentially-ruinous plan and at long last flat voted it down, people all over the state who love our wild Carolina coast stopped and smiled, remembering their best and oldest hopes.   

Bodie Island, Jockeys Ridge, Kill Devil Hills, Kitty Hawk, Monkey Island, Nags Head, No Ache Island, Ocracoke Island – these and Outer Banks place names come with rich stories about their origins, but how many are accurate?

Geographer Roger Payne made it his mission long ago to get to the truth.

Payne’s interest in the place names of the Outer Banks was sparked “many, many years ago” with his first trip to North Carolina’s barrier islands, he writes in the preface to his new book, “Outer Banks Gazetteer: The History of Place Names From Carova to Emerald Isle.”

“While waiting for the ferry at Oregon Inlet (before the bridge), I asked my dad, ‘Why is this inlet called Oregon Inlet?’ He hesitated, thought for a while, and responded, ‘That’s a good question.’ It seemed an unlikely name to be on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. After all, what does Oregon have to do with North Carolina? Thus began my interest in geographic names of the Outer Banks and in geographic names in general,” Payne recalls about that 1959 trip.

From that visit on, he kept records of unusual names on the Outer Banks. Even while attending East Carolina University, “I continued my interest in the Outer Banks and its place names,” Payne writes.

The reference guide published in March by the University of North Carolina Press contains more than 4,000 entries on the region’s place names and includes the history of beaches, inlets, towns and communities, islands, rivers and sand dunes, including the large dune Jockeys Ridge in Dare County. While local stories say that the top of the sand dune “afforded an excellent view of a horsetrack,” which Payne said there’s no record of, the true origin of the name is from an early landowner, according to Payne’s research.

Payne also includes locations that no longer exist, such as inlets that have disappeared due to erosion or storms, Native American villages and abandoned towns. For example, though there’s no trace of Gull Island today, the Carteret County island was in Back Sound between Shackleford Banks and Harkers Island and was prominent until the mid-20th century.

The guide is available online and in many Outer Banks stores.

Payne, who is executive secretary emeritus of the U.S. Board on Geographic Names, earned his bachelor’s in geography and history in 1969 and his master’s in geography in 1972, both from the Greenville-based institution.

He began his career with the U.S. Geological Survey in 1974, officially retiring in 2012. The USGS, created by Congress in 1879, is the country’s largest water, earth and biological science and civilian mapping agency and the sole science agency for the Department of the Interior.

Payne also served as webmaster for the nation’s official geographic name repository, Geographic Names Information System, as USGS’ representative lecturer on mapping and general cartography to schools in northern Virginia, and as adjunct professor at several universities including Old Dominion University, East Carolina University, George Mason University and George Washington University.

Payne told Coastal Review in a recent interview that he was always interested in and even drawn to the Outer Banks since his first visit more than 50 years ago. Even then, he was already interested in the geographic names.

“However, it was not until I joined the U.S. Geological Survey as a researcher in the office responsible for geographic names on maps and in the United States that I discovered that my interest and its application was subject to principles, policies, and procedures officially. Of course, I already had degrees in geography and history, but then took numerous post-graduate course in linguistics and later, data base design,” he said.

Payne explained that his primary goal with his “Gazetteer” was to preserve the rapidly disappearing names and their original meaning when applied.

“Even the very old folk I interviewed — I interviewed hundreds — did not remember original meanings,” he said, adding that geographic names serve as markers for navigating one’s environment while simultaneously providing insight into the morphing and evolution of that culture.

“Of particular interest to me was to determine, prove, and document the numerous published name origins that are nothing more than folk etymology, which is prevalent everywhere, not just the Outer Banks,” he said.

“Some of these highly circulated renditions are clearly tongue in cheek, but others are true folk etymology where fabrication is used to complete unknown or forgotten meanings and are really believed by visitors and even local folk, including many now older local folk. Full original meanings for application are researched appropriately, documented, and provided in the book with my analysis,” he said, explaining that the meanings are based on more than 30 years of direct toponymic, or place name, experience and research.

There are also “educated speculations” based upon years of toponymic fieldwork and experience for certain things and names where intensive research and scores of interviews yielded no results or conflicting results, he said.

“Additionally, I have — I am convinced — unraveled the mysteries of the historical inlet situation in the Roanoke Island area as well as the historical inlet situation along the entire Outer Banks, which does appear conflicted in many sources. My rendition is based upon careful, detailed examination of all maps published in the area since 1585.”

This is not Payne’s first publication on Outer Banks place names.

In 1985, he published “Place Names of the Outer Banks.” Payne explained that when he determined that there was interest in the topic, he decided to publish his work.

“There are numerous place names books published, but since there was no such book of the Outer Banks, I decided in my spare time then, between working and family duties, to gather my notes and publish,” he said.

“The 1985 version is woefully deficient and obviously well out of date. Further, in the seven-year period preparing that version one had to actually visit individual facilities and actually examine each source since it was prior to full internet capability and the onslaught of digitizing everything,” he said.

The 1985 edition was adequate at the time, he continued, but with the advent of digitizing historical and other maps, as well as the availability of primary and other documents online, he said he was able to enhance the information culminating in this gazetteer.

“Specifically, the various myths of naming by folk etymology have been dispelled with the researched and documented actual reason and meaning for the names. This version contains over 4,000 entries, four times the number of the 1985 version, and everything is cross-referenced to a bibliographic citation in this volume,” he told Coastal Review about the 2021 edition.

Payne retired from the USGS in 2006, but two weeks later he was rehired by the same office to manage database transitions, monitor two websites as well as to respond to inquiries. “I responded to over 15,000 such inquiries from 2006 to 2012,” he said.

After 2012, he continued as a volunteer, managing and monitoring the United States’ geographic names program for Antarctica. After 2013, he said he was able to focus his studying Outer Banks Place names.

“It was, in my opinion, well worth the effort since there are more than 4,000 entries for the new version over the 1,000 in the 1985 version and the latest version corrects numerous and varied errors and lack of information because of lack of resources,” Payne said. “Unlike 1985, this version contains a ‘selected’ bibliography as well as each name cross-referenced to the source. I have provided true and documented name origins for almost every name along with all known stories, legends, and whatnot, which of course I think makes very interesting reading.”

And Oregon Inlet, by the way, which opened during a hurricane in 1846, is named after the first vessel to pass through it, the side-wheeler Oregon.

The woodpeckers have been particularly energetic this year in Kitty Hawk Woods. Or perhaps they have been more obviously active than in the past. There’s a tree along the Currituck Sound Path that gives stark evidence of their activity. Sawdust covers the ground around it, its trunk a pitted tribute to the power of a woodpecker’s beak.

There are three North Carolina Coastal Reserve sites on the Outer Banks, Kitty Hawk Woods, Buxton Woods and Currituck Banks. At 1,900 acres, Kitty Hawk Woods Reserve is the largest. It’s also the most difficult to access.

There are three trailheads, one is at the end of a series of dirt roads and the other two at the end of residential streets. There is barely room for two cars at any of the trailheads.

The trails, though, are beautiful, as much for the diversity of nature as their solitude. Occasionally another hiker will be met on a trail, but it’s rare. The trails follow low ridge lines, relict dunes, really, that are 10 or maybe 15 feet above the marsh and swamp at their base.

Sometimes the trails wander to the forest floor, and peering through the branches of the sweet gum and loblolly pine that line the banks, the swales are an explosion of color. In the summer it’s mostly green, but every shade of green imaginable.

Most of the mammals that live in the Kitty Hawk Woods are nocturnal, or active early morning or late evening. Squirrels, though, scamper up and down tree trunks and into the canopy.

The canopy is where the action is when walking the trails. There is a constant flutter of wings and the twitter and chirps of songbirds. Vireos and wrens flit through the branches and common grackles are … well, common.

In the swales, in the marsh and swamp, there are wood duck, heron and egret and an occasional green heron. Along the shoreline of Currituck Sound, osprey soar overhead.

There is also a kayak trail that runs through the heart of the preserve. The put-in is at the boat launch on Bob Perry Road giving access to Jean Guite Creek or Kitty Hawk Bay, and kayak is the preferred way to see Kitty Hawk Woods, according to site manager Jason Brown.

“The best way I have found to see Kitty Hawk Woods Reserve is from the water. Paddling Jean Guite Creek or Kitty Hawk Bay are both options to see the marsh and maritime forest of the Reserve,” he said.

The dense forest, low ridges and swales are little changed from the landscape that Amadas and Barlowe would have seen when they first set eyes on the Outer Banks in 1584.

Barlowe’s description of the dense forest, “we behelde the vallies replenished with goodly Cedar trees …” did not, however, describe what the “vallies” were like.

That description was reported by Wilson Angley in a 1995 research document, “A Brief History of Kitty Hawk Woods in Dare County, North Carolina,” written for the North Carolina Division of Cultural Resources about Kitty Hawk Woods.

In the document, Angley noted, “A manuscript map of 1851 … indicated that the Kitty Hawk Woods themselves were not regarded as suitable for residential use. The entire area east of Woods Road was described as consisting of ‘Small Sand Hills covered with Laurel Pine Holly interspersed with impassable swamps of Briers Gum Bay and small cypress Trees.’”

Little had changed when the Kitty Hawk Town Council wanted to preserve 455 acres on the east side of Kitty Hawk Road as the 1990s arrived.

Cliff Perry was the mayor of the town at that time. He recalled that there were about 460 acres the town council felt needed to be protected and to do so an environmental overlay was created for the area.

“Our desire was to preserve that land and keep it just preserved. It was on the east side of Woods Road,” he said. “A big part of that is swampy land. There’s some good high ridges but there’s a swamp in there.”

The site was dedicated in 1992 and from that time North Carolina and the town have worked together to enlarge the site.

“Since then the state has continued acquisition efforts with help from The Nature Conservancy, town of Kitty Hawk and grants from the North Carolina Natural Heritage Trust Fund and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service,” according to the Kitty Hawk Woods brochure.

It is not a virgin forest. The “goodly Cedar trees” were not the only trees in what was at one time a vast maritime forest.

Writing in 1856, Edmund Ruffin who toured coastal North Carolina before writing “Sketches of North Carolina,” noted that “The only trees of considerable size were loblolly pines … There were oaks and other trees of smaller size, and healthy growth. I was informed that live oaks, large enough for ship timber had been formerly cut down here, for that use.”

The 1850s were not the only time Kitty Hawk Woods was lumbered. In 1910, the land was sold to the Currituck Lumber Co. for $70,000. The company contracted with the Tunis Lumber Co. to harvest the trees and transport them to Elizabeth City.

To move the lumber to the Currituck Sound where it was tied into a raft and hauled by barge to Elizabeth City, a rail line was built. There is still evidence of that time.

The Barlow Trail runs from Barlow Lane to Ridge Road. It’s easier to get on the trail at Ridge Road. About a half-mile from the trailhead, a path runs off to the right.

Unlike the other trails in the reserve, this trail is level and straight. Graded banks on each side elevate it above the marsh. What this short spur of a trail represents is the remnants of the railroad that ran to the sound.

There’s other evidence that points to logging activities, as well.

“The forest that exists today has been influenced. Oaks were harvested first, subsequent logging has been described as leaving only the trees that were not merchantable and then dogwood trees,” Brownsaid. “A low number of live oak and an abundance of loblolly pine can be a sign of past logging on the coast.”

Although the area was owned by lumber companies, area residents were allowed to hunt and trap in the woods Perry said. Hunting is still permitted in Kitty Hawk Woods.

“The people that owned it for timber, they let people in and use it for hunting and whatever they want to as long as you didn’t bother with the timber and cut the trees, they were happy for the people who use it,” he said. “You know, for your own hunting, fishing, whatever you would like to go in and do.”

Lace up your boots and leash up your pooch New Year’s Day for First Day Hikes.

There will be more than 400 hikes on Jan. 1 in all 50 states as part of the America’s State Parks initiative to get people outdoors, according to the park system. All North Carolina state parks, including those on the coast, are hosting hikes.

“First Day Hikes at North Carolina’s coastal state parks are a great start to the year, where year-round residents and visitors from out of state come together to celebrate the holidays in our beautiful coastal counties,” said Katie Hall, public information officer for the state Division of Parks and Recreation.

“Plus, New Years Day is often a great time to experience our coastal parks in particular, with cooler temps and lower humidity that allows for safer, longer hikes at these sunny parks,” she said. “This family tradition sets the stage for the year ahead to include fresh air, physical activity, learning and  fun in the outdoors — things that we hear more and more are critical for our overall well-being.”

The tradition to hike on New Year’s Day began more than 40 years ago at Eno River State Park and attracts more than 800 visitors to that park alone, according to the state park system. All state parks have offered First Day Hikes since 2012. Last year’s First Day Hikes at North Carolina’s 41 state parks saw 3,859 people join 57 guided hikes.

“For decades, First Day Hikes have served our citizens and out-of-state guests with a great start to the year,” said state parks director Dwayne Patterson in a statement. “After some lazy days with our families, our parks offer a chance to put our electronics down, get moving, get some fresh air, and set good intentions for the year — all while in the most beautiful places in our state.”

All hikers should wear appropriate clothing for the weather, good sturdy shoes and bring a water bottle. Check with the park to see if pets are allowed.

Jockey’s Ridge

The First Day Hike at Jockey’s Ridge State Park in Nags Head starts at 10 a.m. Wednesday and will be led by park ranger Austin Paul.

Paul told Coastal Review Online that The hike is a great way to start the New Year and neighbors, visitors and new friends are encouraged to join in and share the experience.

Paul said that hikers should meet at the back deck of the park’s visitor center for the hike that will last about 45 minutes. During the moderate hike, he will talk about the ecology, formation of the dune system, the history of the park, how the park was established and answer questions from the hikers.

He explained that the park system’s mission has three main components: to conserve unique lands of cultural and natural resource significance, provide educational opportunities and provide recreational opportunities.

“So this hike will help achieve the three main parts of our mission,” he said, “We want to promote healthy living and general well-being of our Outer Banks neighbors and visitors.”

The 426-acre Jockey’s Ridge State Park is an extremely unique park on the ecological level and has the largest dune system on the east coast, Paul said. The dune is a living dune, which means it moves due to the impact of the two prevailing winds throughout the year: a northeast wind in the winter and a southeast wind in the summer.

Jockey’s Ridge is also the most visited in North Carolina, with a projected 1.7 million visitors for 2019 by the end of this month, he said.

Paul added that for those unable to attend the hike Jan. 1, they can join him at 2 p.m. Dec. 31 for a similar hike of Jockey’s Ridge State Park. Meet at the Visitor Center back deck for the 3/4-mile hike.

Fort Macon

In Atlantic Beach at Fort Macon State Park, there will be two ranger-led hikes, one over 3 miles and the other just shy of a mile, both starting at 9 a.m. Wednesday from the visitor center.

Ranger Benjamin Fleming told Coastal Review Online in an email interview that the annual First Day Hikes are one of his favorite programs the park does every year.

Most years, 50 to 100 hikers join the rangers for both hikes.

“It seems to get a lot of new visitors out to the park. Every year I meet people that say the hike is their first time visiting the park but they will be returning for sure,” he said. “And a lot of those first-time visitors are locals from Carteret County. They can’t believe they never took the time to visit before the First Day Hike program.”

Fleming added that he also enjoys the hike “because you never know what the weather will be. I have lead hikes on days that everyone was wearing T-shirts, and I think two years ago the temperature was in the 20s. Brrrrrrrr. But I still had a good turnout even in the cold.”

The 3/4-mile hike is an easy loop around part of the nature trail and then out onto the beach before returning to the parking lot,” Fleming said. “It is pretty leisurely pace, and the Ranger points out some cool wildlife that we come across.”

The more strenuous and longer hike is along the Elliott Coues Nature Trail, a 3.2-mile loop around the park.

“It includes a lot of elevation change and maybe some spots of soft sand. Every year I have hikers comment that they read that the hike was strenuous but was still surprised at how much of a workout it was,” he said. “Most locals are used to walking around on flat ground here at the coast, and the elevation changes walking though the dunes is a surprise. We do take a few short breaks to catch our breath and a short bathroom break at the halfway point.”

Fleming said those wanting to hike should meet at the visitor center parking lot around 8:45 a.m. and will start the hike at 9 a.m. “We always encourage hikers to show up early so we can start the hike on time.”

Other parks

Hikers in Camden County can hike through the swamp at Dismal Swamp State Park. Folks should meet at 11 a.m. at the visitor center to hike through the swamp followed by snacks and hot chocolate. Kids, stroller and leashed pets are welcome to join the hike.

See the southern swamp, bald cypress trees, beech groves, Spanish moss and exotic wildlife at Merchants Millpond State Park during the First Day Hike from 10-11 a.m. Wednesday. Hikers are to meet at the boat ramp. Pets are welcome and must be kept on leash.

See Pettigrew State Park’s Lake Phelps and Scuppernong River plus the wintering waterfowls and cypress trees with cavernous archways during the First Day Hike starting at 1 p.m. Wednesday at the park office. The park is located in Creswell and is found in both in Washington and Tyrell counties.

Goose Creek State Park in Washington will begin the New Year looking for wildlife on a hike starting at 10 a.m. Wednesday along the Pamlico River. Meet at the last parking lot. The park features wetlands along the Pamlico Sound, views of a cypress and remnants of the lumber industry.

Hammocks Beach State Park in Swansboro from 10 a.m. to noon will explore the new mainland property with a ranger. In this 2-mile guided hike, rangers will talk about the plants and animals that call the forest home. Meet at the visitor center.

Fort Fisher State Recreation Area at Kure Beach is starting its 1-mile hike at 11 a.m. Wednesday in the exhibit room. Those under 16 years must be accompanied by an adult for the hike at the park that offers beach and trails through salt marsh brimming. Friendly dogs are welcome but they must be leashed at all times. Call 910-458-5798 to register for the hike.

Carolina Beach State Park is welcoming the New Year with a 2-mile hike at 2 p.m. Wednesday. Meet at the Sugarloaf Trailhead at the Marina head parking lot for the hike to Sugarloaf Dune. Reservations are required.

A complete list of First Day Hikes across the state can be found on the State Parks website.

North Carolina State Parks sees more than 18 million visitors at its 237,000 acres of state parks, state recreation areas and state natural areas. North Carolina State Parks administers the North Carolina Parks and Recreation Trust Fund, including its grants program, state trails program, North Carolina Natural and Scenic Rivers and more, all with a mission dedicated to conservation, recreation and education, according to the park system.

Reprinted from the Carteret County News-Times

CEDAR POINT — After months of delay caused mostly by tree damage from Hurricane Florence, the town’s park along the White Oak River will open to the public for the first time at 8 a.m. Friday.

Commissioner John Nash made the announcement during the town board’s monthly meeting Oct. 22 in town hall off Sherwood Avenue.

Speaking during commission comments, Nash said the 56-acre, heavily wooded park will temporarily be called Boathouse Creek Walking Trails in Cedar Point.

Boathouse Creek leads to the river and park land abuts both waterways. However, Nash said the town will seek a permanent name for the park in the future, with input from residents.

“Don Redfearn (public works director) and his team have worked diligently to get the park ready for public access,” Nash said.

Workers for a contractor also had to get rid of dangling branches, remove some fallen trees from the hiking trails and mark trails so people won’t get lost in the dense woods.

There’s a gate at the entrance to the park on Masonic Avenue, and it will be opened daily at 8 a.m. and closed at 7 p.m., Nash added.

There are five to eight “semi-delineated” parking spaces inside a small area to the left beyond the gate. There are also two handicap parking spaces.

Initially, the park will be for walking, enjoying nature and fishing, Nash said. There is abundant wildlife and a cornucopia of native flora.

One of the trails is a mile long, another is 0.8 miles and a third is 0.4 miles. Each is marked with reflective signs of a different color. There is a dock, but it will remain closed to the public for safety reasons.

The town is seeking a $150,000 state Parks and Recreation Trust Fund grant to buy and build a kayak launch, dock and permeable parking lot.

The town bought the 56-acre waterfront tract for $2.8 million in April from the North Carolina Masons, with the intent of offering passive recreation and providing a stormwater runoff buffer between nearby residential development and the river in order to protect and enhance water quality. Passive recreational uses such as wildlife observation, walking and hiking are considered the least damaging to wetland ecosystems.

Cedar Point had partnered with the North Carolina Coastal Federation, North Carolina Department of Transportation, University of North Carolina and East Carolina University on various water quality projects intended to help improve the White Oak River.

The property had previously been zoned for multi-family development.

The park includes all of the remaining undeveloped Masonic property in town except the historic Octagon House and its grounds.

Nash said for now, there will be no restrooms on park property and no trash receptacles. He said anyone who hikes should pack out what they bring along.

All state laws are applicable within the park, and the property will be patrolled by the town’s sheriff’s deputy, Kurt Nokamura, and others from the sheriff’s department when needed. There will be no town staff on site.

Nash urged anyone who uses the park to “be aware of your surroundings,” and said if someone calls 911, law enforcement or the Western Carteret Fire and EMS Department, located nearby on Sherwood Avenue, will respond.

“We hope you enjoy the park,” said Nash, who added that the town has a long-range plan developed by a consulting engineering firm for the property.

Features in that plan, which Nash said will take shape in “baby steps” as the town can afford them, include a parking lot with a restroom and shelter, paved and natural trails, a nature play area, three water view platforms, a fishing pier, kayak and canoe launch with a drop-off area away from the water, a single-stall waterless bathroom, a bench, swing and hammock area close to the water, an open space, a picnic area and a living shoreline to protect against erosion.

The town took possession of the property in April, about five months after voters in November 2018 overwhelmingly approved a bond referendum to pay for it.

Officials have told taxpayers the town will seek grants to help defray the 3-cent property tax hike that went into effect July 1 to pay off the bonds, which were bought by Sterling National Bank of New York.

NAGS HEAD – The staff at Jockey’s Ridge State Park has a vision.

The taxidermy pelican will be standing tall on a lofty perch, overlooking the scene beneath as visitors old and new crowd the park’s visitor center. They will be welcomed to the updated center with plenty of natural light, seating and a welcome desk perfectly placed to receive guests without being obtrusive. The open floor plan will allow for different sections of the center to flow together, so the lobby, exhibit hall and auditorium feel less discrete and more integrated with each other.

Alongside these architectural changes, the exhibit hall will be completely gutted, and new exhibits with a focus on the different ecosystems found in the state park will be installed, allowing visitors to “walk through” the park and its environmental factors before ever setting foot in the dune’s sand.

As Superintendent Joy Greenwood recently explained the changes and the future appearance, sharing blueprints and leading an exhibit hall tour to point out where and how things will change, her vision of an improved visitor experience became clearer.

The planned updates stem from the Connect NC bond referendum, which was approved by state taxpayers in 2016 and grants $75 million to improvement projects on 45 state parks. The referendum distributed the money based on need, and Jockey’s Ridge came away with $751,000 to bring new life to the visitor’s center, which hasn’t seen a substantial update since 2001.

Jockey’s Ridge brought in EVOKE Studio Architecture of Durham and Design Dimensions Inc. of Raleigh for the design process. A construction firm has yet to be selected.

The exhibit updates will mainly focus on educating visitors about the different ecosystems found within the park. The design encourages visitors to flow from dune exhibits to the maritime forest display and then on to the estuarine exhibit. The smoother transition between displays, where previously there were about 11 different exhibits with choppy information about the different aspects of the park’s historical and natural roots, will remain true to the same general concepts, said interpretive designer Tim Rayworth.

Rayworth is heading the project from his home base in Raleigh.

“The new exhibits present a completely different way of looking at Jockey’s Ridge: zooming out to view it as part of the long spit of sand which makes up the Outer Banks, and then zooming in to the level of individual creatures making homes in this ever-changing landscape,” Rayworth said via email. “In some ways the exhibits will be more comprehensive, and in others they will be more focused.”

The center’s nocturnal exhibit and taxidermy will stay because those current elements are among the biggest draws. Greenwood said she wants visitors of all ages, backgrounds and learning levels to be able to understand the ecosystems at work within the park.

“We try to write (the exhibits) on an eighth-grade level,” she said.

Rayworth also stressed the importance of reaching a wide audience. “Most of the million-plus people that come to Jockey’s Ridge spend a week on the Outer Banks and then return to their homes, usually hundreds of miles away,” he said. “I think the exhibits will give them a way to better understand what this place is all about. For local people, we are creating spaces that celebrate their familiar surroundings and heritage.”

Architecturally speaking, the mission is to create a welcoming, open space.

“Typically, museums feel this need to have a dark ceiling and closed-off rooms,” Greenwood said. She admitted that Jockey’s Ridge falls into this category, with a confusing layout and a distinct separation between the lobby, the auditorium and the exhibit hall.

The visitor center updates include installing large windows and glass doors, as well as a wide bench for patrons. Natural light and colors are to feature prominently in the modern design, and the lobby, exhibit hall and auditorium will blend together to improve flow.

“We’re going to take down a wall,” Greenwood said. “It will feel less like a dark hole. We’re really going to open it up.”

Not only will the visitors’ section of the center be revamped, but park staff will also get extra room to breathe. A 22-foot extension of the building will create a room for staff meetings and allow each employee their own space, instead of sharing cubicles as they do now.

Excitement over the updates, however, has been dampened by a possible delay.

Current flood maps show the building’s in an area at risk for flooding, and the entire structure would need to be raised about 6 to 8 inches, which would suck most of the funding dry. But not so with new, pending flood maps.

The issue is the new maps’ release was postponed to February, meaning the project would be on hold until then, unless the park can get county approval to proceed. The delay would make it likely that the visitor center would be closed for much of next summer.

Rayworth, however, remained optimistic.

“Opportunities and inconveniences for visitors and staff come up unexpectedly but regularly,” Rayworth said. “Making the most of them is the trick.”

All of this comes during a hectic time for the staff. Work was recently finished a restoration project in which sand was removed from the southeast section to the northwest part of the park to offset the dunes’ migration driven by prevailing northerly winds. The sand was used to renourish the soundside beach. No sand was removed from the park and no sand was brought in.

Also, Jason Brown, lead interpretation and education ranger at the park, recently accepted a position with the North Carolina Coastal Reserve and National Estuarine Research Reserve. Brown’s departure stretches the staff thinner in their daily duties, while they’re still brainstorming, writing and designing new exhibits. Despite any setbacks, the staff remains hopeful and excited for the changes to come.

“We’re excited for the face-lift,” Greenwood said. “It’s a long time overdue.”

Learn More

• Jockey’s Ridge State Park

CRESWELL — Tucked away from the traffic, Pettigrew State Park’s charm is found in its unique combination of scenery, wildlife and history.

A main feature of the park is Lake Phelps, which is the state’s second-largest natural lake, and a rarity for eastern North Carolina: It’s not stream-fed. As a large rainwater collection, Lake Phelps is thus among the state’s cleanest lakes, according to the park website.

The lake measures 7 miles east to west and 5 miles north to south, with a circumference of 21 miles, according to Charlotte Davis, a Pettigrew park ranger. “Despite the size of it, it’s pretty shallow,” Davis said, noting the average depth is 4.5 feet and the deepest section is 9 feet.

The park is 5,830 acres, said Jim Trostle, another park ranger, not including the 16,600-acre lake. The main park land is by the lake, but separate sections of property are along the Scuppernong River and outside of Columbia. “We’re very spread out,” Trostle said.

Visitors have sometimes expressed surprise that there are no alligators in Lake Phelps, but despite its many boaters and swimmers, the park has never received an alligator sighting report.

“Most of the time, our lake’s really clear, when it’s not white-capping,” Davis said. This does not create plausible “ambush” conditions for alligators.

Park visitors may very well encounter bears, however, which is news to many of them.

“For some reason, people are surprised there are bear here,” Trostle noted. “They always think of them being in the mountains.” He sees them “almost daily.”

Davis said it makes sense the bear population is significant at Pettigrew. “There are nuts and berries in the woods, fish in the lake (and) crops in the fields,” she said. “People come from everywhere to hunt bear” in land surrounding the park – no hunting is allowed on park grounds.

Time and land use are believed to have shifted the lake’s location.

“We think the lake might be moving slowly westward,” Trostle said. “In part, that may be storm-driven.”

From looking at maps of the lake’s coastline dating back 150 years, “we know it’s shifted,” Trostle said. Staff observations also lead them to believe the lake is slowly moving: “Part of the trail that’s usually not flooded had water on it for months,” he said.

Human activities also contribute to changes, Davis stated.

“Over the years, the use of the land has changed,” she said. “All this used to be swamp. The early settlers called it the ‘Haunt of Beasts.’”

Before much of the land was converted into farmland for plantations, the swamp, dense vegetation and bountiful bugs kept early settlers away.

But the bane of some people’s existence is the subject of scientific research now.

Trostle said a group from Old Dominion University in Virginia is conducting a study in the park on climate change effects, as measured by Gulf Coast ticks: “To see if their range is expanding.”

Algonquin Artifacts

Unlike newly arrived Europeans, Native Americans frequented the lake and surrounding forests for seasonal hunting and fishing. Algonquin artifacts spanning 11,000 years have been found in the area, with some dated back to as early as 8,000 B.C.E., according to the park website.

A wildfire in the mid-1980s was fought with water from Lake Phelps, which took the water level down to as low as 1 foot in places, according to Christy Maready, park administrative associate.

“Artifacts became visible — clay pots and canoes,” Maready said.

Thirty Algonquin dugout canoes, including some whole canoes and some parts, were found, and about 13 were removed, she said. The largest canoe, measuring 36 feet, is now housed in the North Carolina Museum of History in Raleigh. The oldest was carbon-dated back 4,000 years. Native Americans sunk their canoes in between seasons.

“They would purposely sink them, as a way of preserving them,” Trostle said of the canoes. “They don’t get bugs in them either (underwater). They didn’t have a way to haul them.”

Two of the cypress canoes were displayed at Pettigrew State Park when Davis, 35, was young, she recalled. They are currently at an East Carolina University lab being restored, and once Pettigrew receives a visitor center, the hope is to bring them back, she said.

This fall will mark the Pettigrew’s 32^nd annual Indian Heritage Week. Area schoolchildren —usually fourth-graders — come learn about the lifestyle of the area’s original residents and help work on burning and scraping out the inside of a replica canoe another park ranger crafted, Davis said.

The park headquarters showcases a variety of Algonquin artifacts, including fishhooks and projectile points, such as those used for spears.

Trostle turned a stone ax head over in his hands. “This was probably a week’s worth of work,” he said, explaining how the Native Americans repeatedly chipped little pieces off the stone then sanded it smooth. A display case also features reproduction clay cooking pots and a mortar and pestle set, among other artifacts and informational displays.

Also in the room with the artifacts are stuffed species of mostly local origins — everything from bears to tundra swans to nutria. An elk hails from the western part of the state, and a boar came from Johnson County. Just one animal remains a point of contention.

“People say they’ve seen them (here),” Davis said, referencing a stuffed mountain lion. “I’m open minded. I have a lot of family who are farmers; but they’ve seen something.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it on a trail cam,” Trostle quipped, citing the lack of photographic evidence.

Wind, Waves & Recreation

Lake Phelps is wind driven. Winter generally brings a north wind.

“A north wind means the south side of the lake is rough, (but) we’re fine,” Davis said. Summer often heralds a south wind, where the tables turn, and the lake by park headquarters is choppy.

A public canoe trip on Lake Phelps scheduled for June 21 was cancelled because of waves of 1-2 feet. “Today’s the first day of summer, and it’s a south wind,” Trostle noted, laughing about the wind switching that morning exactly.

Park staff schedule at least one public canoe trip every month during the summer. Canoe the Scuppernong, slated for June 8, was cancelled due to thunderstorms. The next venture, also on the Scuppernong River, is set for July 19. The park hopes to eventually have a system to be able to rent out its eight, two-seater canoes, Davis said.

Spring and fall are the busiest seasons at Pettigrew, with visitors hiking, paddleboarding, kayaking, boating, fishing and camping.

“Last summer a lady paddleboarded almost the entire circuit of the lake — 21 miles,” Davis said.

“We’re a trophy bass lake,” Davis added. Fishermen are limited to keeping five bass, but bass must be thrown back if they’re smaller than 14 inches or larger than 21 inches, she explained. Fishermen also regularly catch yellow perch, bream and catfish.

Many people take advantage of the park as an economically friendly way to visit the beach. A $28 campsite easily beats a $250 hotel room on the Outer Banks, Davis said. “Instead of going to the beach and spending lots of money, they stay the night (here), go to the beach and come back for the night.” These visitors come from all over the state, but also from other countries, Davis said, naming Canada, Switzerland, Germany and Australia.

Pettigrew State Park has 13 regular campsites and a group camp that can accommodate 30-35 people. Scouting, church and family groups often use that camp, Davis said.

“Astronomy is big here,” Trostle noted. “Some of the darkest skies in Eastern North Carolina are here — there’s not a lot of light pollution.”

A Rocky Mount-based astronomy club frequents Pettigrew, offering free, informal programs for visitors.

“They’ll bring their huge telescope and tell people about what they’re looking at in the sky,” Trostle said. This year, one such event was planned for April, and one is being organized for the fall.

Summertime brings visitors as well, “but there comes a point in time when it just gets too muggy,” Davis said.

Winter brings the birders.

Tundra swans take refuge for the winter in the many lakes in eastern North Carolina, including Lake Phelps, Pungo Lake and Lake Mattamuskeet, Davis said. They generally show up in late November or early December and stay until February. Last year, 28,778 tundra swans were seen in a 15-mile radius. “Some years it’s been in the 35,000 range,” Davis said.

Tundra swans are joined by snow geese, which numbered 34,435 last year, and a variety of ducks. The tranquility of the lake can morph into cacophony at times.

“Especially when they’re flying right on top of you, they can get very vocal,” Davis said. “During the winter, people are amazed at how much waterfowl we have.”

Symbiotic Relationship

The park enjoys a symbiotic relationship with Somerset Place, a former plantation that the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources maintains as a State Historic Site. Somerset Place is located within Pettigrew’s boundaries, and is a hike of only a few minutes from the park headquarters down a quarter-mile wooded boardwalk trail that skirts the lake. Park employees built the boardwalk themselves rather than contracting it out. “it was a labor of love,” Davis said.

Some people are drawn to take the free tours exploring how life was on a 19^th century plantation and end up visiting the park as well, while others start at the park and end up at Somerset, Davis said.

Pettigrew State Park is named after James Johnston Pettigrew, a Civil War Confederate general whose plantation was next to Somerset, Maready said. The Pettigrew Family Cemetery can be reached by hiking a roughly mile-long trail from the park’s headquarters.

Two other state parks receiving similar numbers of visitors as Pettigrew each year: Weymouth Woods Sandhills Nature Preserve in Southern Pines, with 67,000 visitors, and Mayo River State Park in Rockingham County, which sees 74,000, Davis said.

Interested large groups of visitors can request use of the state’s two big canoes, which are 29 feet long and hold up to 14 people each. The state parks share these and send them as available based on advance scheduling. School groups, scouting groups and 4-H camps in nearby counties regularly schedule these canoes at Pettigrew, Davis said.

Park programs are free, weather-dependent and require advance registration. Park headquarters is located at 2252 Lake Shore Road in Creswell. The office number is 252-797-4475.

YOUR NATIONAL PARKS – Last year, more than 3.5 million visited five National Park Service lands on the North Carolina coast.

Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, Wright Brothers National Memorial, Cape Lookout National Seashore and Moores Creek National Battlefield visitors spent more than $225 million in the communities within 60 miles of the parks, with a cumulative benefit to the local economies of about $280 million, according to a newly released National Park Service report. The five parks make up National Parks of Eastern North Carolina.

The state’s national parks had 18.1 million visitors, who spent an estimated $1.3 billion during their visit, supported 206,000 jobs, $660 million in labor income, which includes wages, salaries and payroll benefits. North Carolina national park lands were the fourth most visited in the country in 2018, behind California, Alaska and Arizona, in that order.

Countrywide, there were 318 million National Park Service visitors who spent around $20.2 billion, supporting 329,000 jobs, $13.6 billion in labor income, and $40.1 billion in economic output, which is the total estimated value of the production of goods and services supported by National Park Service visitor spending, according to the website.

In total, the more than 300 million visited the 419 areas within the National Park System, which covers more than 84 million acres, and spent an estimated $20.2 billion in the communities near the parks. Total visitor spending estimates increased by 11% in 2018 compared to 2017.

“Visitation to national parks, in 2018, exceeded 300 million visits for the fourth year in a row,” BG Horvat, Cape Lookout National Seashore chief park ranger told Coastal Review Online.

“With over 318 million visits, it’s the third highest recreation visitation total since record keeping began in 1904. With at least one NPS unit located in every state, parks of the national park system are easily accessible and affordable places,” he continued. “Over the past five years, there’s been approximately 1.6 billion recreational visits to the parks. The demand for folks to enjoy their national parks seems to still be very appealing, especially for an affordable experience.”

Economists Catherine Cullinane Thomas and Egan Cornachione of the U.S. Geological Survey and Lynne Koontz of the National Park Service conducted the peer-reviewed visitor spending analysis, according to a release from the National Park Service. An online interactive tool allows users to view data trends by year, explore visitor spending, jobs, labor income, value-added and output effects by sector for national, state and local economies.

Moores Creek

Southeastern North Carolina’s Moores Creek National Battlefield, where the Battle on Moores Creek Bridge took place in Feb. 27, 1776, brought in 58,531 visitors last year who spent $3.8 million supporting 52 jobs and a cumulative benefit to the state economy of $4.5 million.

The battle between Loyalists and Patriots ended with the Loyalists surrendering and putting an end to the colony being regained for the British crown. The park regularly hosts reenactments of the battle and other events in order to share the park’s Revolutionary War history with visitors.

“Many local businesses see impacts from park visitors,” said Superintendent Matthew Woods about Moores Creek National Battlefield, located in rural western Pender County on the edge of the Black River basin and swamps, about 20 minutes from downtown Wilmington.

The community is considered low-socioeconomic status and the demographics of the community are diverse, with larger percentages of migrant and African American residents than in eastern Pender County, Woods explained.

Of the total of $3.8 million spent in the area, $1.3 million went to lodging, $750,000 to area restaurants, $260,000 to groceries, $552,000 on fuel, $365,000 in retail and $286,000 on recreation, according to the report.

“There are only two restaurants and gas stations within 10 miles of the park and many visitors stop at these sites and bring money into the community. The same goes for the many corner convenience stores,” Woods said. “Several birding, kayaking and tour groups utilize the natural parts of the park for their businesses. The park has kayak and canoe access to Moores Creek and the Black River and many watersport enthusiasts and businesses take advantage of this.”

Moores Creek draws in visitors thanks in part to the efforts of Pender County Tourism, which promotes the park via brochures, billboards, social media and highway signs, with weekly beach visitors being the primary intended audience. Visitors to New Hanover and Brunswick counties often head out to the park as well.

In addition to the efforts of the county tourism, the National Park Service and its park partner nonprofit organization, Eastern National, have several national programs that bring visitors from across the country to the area, including Eastern National’s Passport to Your National Parks passport stamp program.

“Every National Park site has a stamp and visitors love to visit these parks and record their visits. For Moores Creek National Battlefield, it is estimated that nearly 25-33% of all visitors to the park come for this reason,” he said.

With larger parks like Grand Canyon or Yellowstone, you visit the park for the story and experiences and then get your stamp but with parks like Moores Creek, you visit the park for the stamp, and then learn the story. “These passes bring visitors off of I-95 as they are passing through North Carolina or from Myrtle Beach as they are visiting the coast on vacations.”

Every National Park has a Junior Ranger Program, an educational program targeting youth and their families that also brings in visitors.

“Visitors who complete these programs receive a Junior Ranger badge and other items from that park. Many families target National Parks during their travels,” he said. “We recently had two teenagers who recently completed every Junior Ranger Program in the National Park Service and had over 600 badges from state and federal sites. As you can see, this 88-acre historic battlefield draws visitors from all over, thus bringing many tourists from outside the region and state to western Pender County and the Cape Fear Region.”

Another draw for the battlefield is that it is one of few designated green spaces in western Pender County.

“Many locals use the park for what it is – a park. Daily, we see walkers, joggers and four-legged visitors,” Woods said, adding that families use the park and its two pavilions for family reunions, weddings, birthday parties, group outings, picnics and other gatherings.

“On just about any Saturday, this area is full of visitors from the community, the region and beyond who are here to enjoy family experiences,” he said.

The park, which has a campsite for Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts and Trail Life, sees about 1,000 campers each year, and the military uses the Moores Creek battle as an educational resource for troops from nearby bases. More than 2,000 military personnel come through the park on scheduled guided tours and staff rides yearly.

The park has an active volunteer corps of about 25 with volunteers for special events reaching close to 300 volunteers annually. Volunteers contribute an average of 7,000 hours annually in support of the park.

Cape Lookout

At more than two hours away in central North Carolina, Cape Lookout National Seashore in Carteret County is the closest national park to Moores Creek National Battlefield.

Cape Lookout, with its 56 miles of undeveloped beach, is home to the historic Portsmouth Village, Cape Lookout Lighthouse, Shackleford Banks horses and is only accessible by boat.

The park rangers provide year-round programs to introduce visitors to the natural barrier island ecosystem making up the national seashore and its history

Cape Lookout National Seashore had 408,399 visitors last year spend $18.8 million, supporting 262 jobs with a cumulative benefit to the economy of $20.3 million.

Of the $18.8 million spent, $5.4 million was on lodging, $4.2 million was in restaurants, $2.7 million was at grocery stores, $2.7 million was on fuel, $1.5 million was in retail shops and $1.3 million was on recreation.

Cape Hatteras

Cape Hatteras National Seashore, which includes the Ocracoke and Bodie Island light stations, saw its highest visitation numbers in 15 years.

“Based on the upward trend in visitation at Cape Hatteras National Seashore over the last five years, it appears that demand is increasing,” Mike Barber, public affairs specialist, said in an interview. “In 2018, Cape Hatteras National Seashore had 2,591,056 visitors, which is almost 440,000 more visitors than the seashore had in 2014.”

Cape Hatteras visitors spent $166 million, supporting 2,397 jobs with a cumulative benefit to the area’s economy of $208 million. Of the total $166 million spent, $57.1 million went to lodging, $32.7 million to area restaurants, $11.6 million on groceries, $24.3 million on fuel, $16.1 million in retail and $12.5 million on recreation. The cumulative benefit to the state economy was $208.4 million.

Also on the Outer Banks are Fort Raleigh National Historic Site in Manteo and the Wright Brothers National Memorial is in Kill Devil Hills.

The Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, home to the long-running “Lost Colony” outdoor drama, had 261,199 visitors who spent $15.4 million in the surrounding communities, supporting 231 jobs and cumulative benefit to the local economy of $19.7 million. Of the total $15.4 million spent, $4.8 million went to lodging, $3.6 million to area restaurants, $871,000 in groceries, $2 million on fuel, $1.8 million in retail and $1.4 million on recreation.

The Wright Brothers National Memorial had 360,669 visitors spend $21.3 million, supporting 319 jobs with a cumulative benefit to the local economy of $27.4 million. Of the total $21.3 million spent, $6.7 million went to lodging, $4.9 million was spent in area restaurants, $1.2 million on groceries, $2.8 million on fuel, $2.5 million in retail stores and $1.9 million on recreation.

CARTERET COUNTY — Many trips to Cape Lookout National Seashore’s uninhabited barrier islands, which are only accessible by boat, begin in either Beaufort or on Harkers Island, where the park’s two visitor centers are located.

At both locations, you’ll find park staff ready to help you plan your outing to the “56 miles of undeveloped beach stretched over three or four barrier islands from Ocracoke Inlet on the northeast to Beaufort Inlet on the southeast” that have no paved roads, concession stands, bathhouses or trash cans but there are daytime activities with rangers, historic villages to visit and even a mid-19^th century lighthouse to climb, according to the national park website. To really take in the island, primitive camping and rustic cabin rentals are an option.

“Park staff is available to answer any questions about visitor curiosity. They are also available to help people plan their trips or prepare for their adventures. Staff may also know of upcoming events or special happenings taking place in the park at a moment’s notice,” said Chief Park Ranger B.G. Horvat.

Open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, the Harkers Island Visitor Center, 1800 Island Road, features exhibits on the historic Portsmouth Village, island ecology and Shackleford Banks horses, children’s activities, a book store, park information and will show on request “Ribbon of Sand,” a 26-minute film that takes the viewer on a tour of the natural barrier island ecosystem.

There are two nature trails at the Harkers Island Visitor Center as well. The self-guided Soundside Loop Trail is three-fifths of a mile along the eastern shore of Harkers Island and meanders through maritime forest and saltmarsh and the third-mile Willow Pond Nature Trail hugs the edge of a restored freshwater pond.

At the Beaufort Visitor Center in historic downtown at 701 Front St., open 8:30 a.m. – 4:30 p.m. daily, visitors can view maps, exhibits and brochures as well as learn more about the murals in the visitor center during the program, “Art of the New Deal.”

The building that houses the Beaufort Visitor Center was once the post office for the waterfront town. In 1940, Simka Simkhovitch, as part of the New Deal, painted murals that reflect the maritime history of the area.

The program, which is scheduled for 2 p.m. each Sunday from June 23-Sept. 1 at the Front Street entrance, helps visitors learn how New Deal art like Simkhovitch’s, served to unite and inspire a nation during the Great Depression.

Horvat said these New Deal-era murals capture scenes from Cape Lookout National Seashore places, resources and historical events, such as the lighthouse, Canadian geese feeding, or the sinking of the Chrissie Wright schooner in 1886 to name a few.

“The program has been offered since 2017, and from research and local ties to Beaufort’s old post office and those murals, it has evolved into an exceptional presentation of national and local history revisited,” he said. “Folks’ connections to the meanings of the art, the old post office lobby, and the stories researched by the park ranger create an opportunity to make personal connections to a time gone by.”

After popping in the visitor centers to learn more about the national park’s history, habitats and ecosystems, head to the ferry gateways for a quick ferry ride to North Core Banks, South Core Banks or Shackleford Banks, the barrier islands making up the park.

These islands are only accessible by boat, and rides can be coordinated with Island Express Ferry Service if you don’t have access to a private boat. The authorized ferry operator makes trips throughout the day from the ferry gateway at Beaufort Town Docks, 600 Front St., and from the Harkers Island Visitor Center.

Call the ferry at 252-728-7433 or visit its website for times and fees. There are a handful of additional ferry services that leave from different communities and can be found on the park service website.

Cape Lookout Lighthouse

For a bird’s-eye view of the barrier islands, head to the 1859 Cape Lookout Lighthouse, which opened May 15 for climbing.

Visitors can climb the lighthouse from 10:15 a.m. to 4 p.m. Wednesdays through Sundays until Sept. 15, depending on the weather. The lighthouse will also be open for Memorial Day Monday, May 27, and Labor Day Monday, Sept. 2. Tickets are $8 for adults and $4 for ages 62 or older and 11 and younger, all available on a first-come, first-serve basis. Tickets can only be purchased in-person at the site the day of the climb.

Horvat said if you’re planning to climb to the top of lighthouse, his best advice is to plan ahead and make sure everyone in the group is at least 44-inches tall, and that anyone under 12 will be climbing with someone responsible and at least 16 years old.

“Check the weather ahead of time also, as the lighthouse will close suddenly if the inside of the lighthouse reaches a heat index of 103 degrees, if lightning strikes come within 10 miles of the area, if heavy rain begins to pool or create slippery conditions, and also if winds reach gusts of 39 mph, or sustain at 32 mph,” he said. “Safety-related closures like these do occur annually, and Rangers will err on the side of caution in conditions that even come close to these benchmarks for safety’s sake. Other than that, a decent pair of closed-toe shoes, are required for the climb up the 207 stairs to the gallery. And, don’t forget your camera, as the view is phenomenal on a clear and sunny day.”

Visitors should also bring sunscreen, bug spray, water and snacks, and plan to pack out any trash as the park is a trash-free zone, according to a release from the park, and be prepared for the climb, which is equivalent to climbing a 12-story building. For more information, check the park website.

Cape Lookout Light Station & Village

The seasonal Cape Lookout Light Station near Cape Lookout Lighthouse is connected to the passenger ferry dock on South Core Banks and open from 9:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. daily. Here, visitors will find programs and restrooms, shade shelter, first aid and a beach wheelchair.

This is also where visitors should head if they want to attend ranger programs at Lighthouse Beach.

Meet at 10:15 a.m. Wednesday through Friday for a 20-minute presentation on the “Crystal Coast’s scenic beauty, rich culture and history, along with the challenges ahead.” This program starts at 10:30 a.m.

And at 2:15 p.m., meet a ranger for a 45-minute beach walk or interactive demonstration that begins at 2:30 p.m.

To reach the Cape Lookout Village Historic District, head south from the light station to the point of the cape. The nearly 810-acre area includes the former Cape Lookout Life-Saving Station, the decommissioned Cape Lookout Coast Guard Station, the remains of a World War II Army coastal defense complex, as well as several former fishing cottages and vacation homes. For more details, visit the website.

Shackleford Banks

If your destination is Shackleford Banks, ferries leave for the west end of the island from the Beaufort Visitor Information Center throughout the year and from the Harkers Island Visitor Center, the ferries head to the east end of the island during the summer and by special request during the rest of the year.

For a guided tour of Shackleford Banks, plan to attend Rove with a Ranger. Meet at the Island Express Ferry Service ticket booth in Beaufort at 9:15 a.m. each Friday from June 21 to Aug. 30. Ferry fees apply, call the ferry office for tickets.

During this program, a park ranger will lead a morning walk through Shackleford Banks to spot wild horses or bird watch. The park recommends attendees bring water, snacks, binoculars or camera, sunscreen, bug spray, and a pair of water-walking shoes. After the walk, visitors can spend the day at Shackleford.

You can also join a ranger for Horse Sense & Survival Tours throughout the year to for an “in-depth look at wild horse behaviors and the management practices needed to maintain a wild horse herd,” according to the website, which lists dates and times. Reservations are required for the program, which take place one Saturday a month.

“The wild horses are only on Shackleford Banks, there are approximately 117 in the herd.  They are amazing to witness, but visitors should remember to keep their distance in enjoying their view,” Horvat said. “We recommend keeping a bus length away, about 50 feet, as any wild animal may react differently to different people.  Please adhere to this thoughtful rule and take plenty of photos to help you remember your moment with this wonderful resource.”

Junior Ranger Program

Though designed for ages 5 to 13, all are welcome to participate in the Junior Ranger program. Activity booklets can be picked up at the Harkers Island Visitor Center, the Beaufort Visitor Center, the Light Station Visitor Center, and the Great Island and Long Point Cabin Camp Offices.

“Kids, along with their family, can learn about the park’s history, plants, and animals by taking part in the Cape Lookout National Seashore Junior Ranger activity booklet,” said Horvat.

“The Junior Ranger activities within offer all an opportunity to explore Cape Lookout while learning more about this area of the country, about the National Park Service, and its role in preserving our cultural and natural resources for this, and future generations,” he said. When the booklet is completed, drop off or mail it to any of the park’s visitor centers for correction by park staff.

“Successfully completing the activities results in receiving a Cape Lookout Junior Ranger badge and certificate.  While the program is meant for kids, ages 5-13, all may partake” said Horvat.

Portsmouth Village

“Over a century ago, Portsmouth was a bustling sea village. Today, the village stands in stark contrast to its days filled with sounds of fisherman, children playing, lifesavers practicing their rescue drill, the tinkle of livestock bells and the call of ‘Mailboat!” Yet, all has not been lost, the echoes of the past seem to surround you there, inviting you to explore and to imagine daily life in that harsh environment,” said Horvat.

The historic Portsmouth Village on Portsmouth Island is at the northern end of Cape Lookout National Seashore’s boundary on North Core Banks.

The historic village visitor center located in Theodore and Annie Salter House, just on the right of the path from the Haulover Dock, is open seasonally from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday until the end of October.

Though the last resident left in the early 1970s, many of the buildings remain including the school, post office and general store, and the U.S. Life-Saving Station, the Methodist church and the Henry Piggot House, which are open to the public seasonally.

Shuttles to Portsmouth Village leave from Ocracoke. Contact Rudy Austin’s Portsmouth Island Boat Tours passenger ferry service for more details and ferry schedule at 252-928-4361.

Spend the Day

“If not participating in a program, there are a myriad of reasons to come and enjoy Cape Lookout National Seashore,” Horvat said.

“Taking in a day at the beach, looking for shells along the shoreline, capturing photos from around a natural landscape of barrier island ecosystem, surfing, surf fishing, camping in a remote and wild setting, seeking solitude, visiting remnants of the past people who lived on the banks, and hiking and wildlife viewing come to mind in what else there is to do on the beaches of Cape Lookout National Seashore,” he said. “But, by all means, please stop by, or call the Cape Lookout National Seashore’s Harkers Island Visitor Center for orientation and help in planning your trip.”

The visitor center phone number is 252-728-2250 and folks may also take a look at the website for more information, or follow the Facebook page for notifications on park happenings.

PLYMOUTH – Some here say this Washington County town is making a comeback. It’s had to do that a number of times since its founding in 1787, but this one may demand the biggest change in how people think of it.

At one time, Plymouth was a thriving small city. Right after World War II, Plymouth saw its most profound growth. That was when the wood and paper mills here were growing. That was when Coast Guard Auxiliary Flotilla 16-2 came into existence, in 1948, as the first flotilla in the state and now one of the oldest in the nation.

The town’s peak population reached almost 4,800. That was in 1970 when the wood product and paper mills were operating around the clock and Weyerhaeuser Co. had one of its largest East Coast operations here. Wood and paper products are still produced here, and Weyerhaeuser operates a lumber yard but the paper mill was taken over by Domtar in the late 2000s and makes fluff pulp for filling diapers and feminine hygiene products, and employees now number in the low hundreds instead of the thousands.

As the mill jobs left, the population declined, and the latest estimates put the population of Plymouth at 3,500.

The Plymouth Flotilla, with its 60-year history of service and rescues, was nearly forced to disband as others have had to do for reasons that include declining and aging membership.

The auxiliary’s mission is to promote and improve recreational boating safety, provide trained crews and facilities to augment the Coast Guard and enhance safety and security of ports, waterways and coastal regions and otherwise support the Coast Guard. The Plymouth Flotilla meets on the first Thursday each month and the auxiliary here is coming back, at least that’s what Flotilla Cmdr. Jeff Russell will tell you.

“We’re going to put extra effort into getting the word out and just inviting people,” Russell said recently. “We’ll be at public events, boating classes. Those are our most lucrative places for new members.”

The flotilla, which last year received its 70th anniversary banner from the Coast Guard, has only 10 members, a “pretty challenging” situation, Russell said.

“We have one person we’re about to add to the flotilla and he holds a lot of promise,” he said. “We’re utilizing the help of other flotillas. Members are inviting someone to every meeting. So far things seem to be going pretty well.”

Once an Important Port

Situated on the Roanoke River, the town before the Civil War was one of the most important ports in the state, boasting a U.S. Customs house and a small shipyard.

There’s a good reason why Plymouth was once an important port.

“You will notice that Plymouth is on a hill,” Plymouth Mayor Brian Roth said, noting that the town is surrounded by miles of flat North Carolina coastal plain. What is not farmed is marsh, swamp or covered in maritime forest and pocosin.

“Coming up the river, it’s the first dry land. All the goods came down here in small boats. Then onto larger boats. Off the town dock it’s 18 feet deep. I’ve seen 75-foot tugs tied up there,” said Lou Manring, who until recently was commander and is still the vice flotilla commander.

Because of its importance as a port, Union forces seized the town in 1862. It was, according to Union soldier David Day a “… small but rather pretty town, situated on the south bank of the Roanoke River, about five miles up from the sound.”

That changed in 1864 when the Confederate Army, backed by the ironclad ship, Albemarle, drove the Union army from the town and captured the port in April of that year. It was a short-lived, Pyrrhic victory. The Union navy blockaded the mouth of the Roanoke River and by the following October, the Confederates were driven from town.

Heavily damaged, Plymouth had to rebuild. Then, in 1898, the downtown was consumed in a fire, and the town rebuilt again.

It’s different now, though. The buildings along Water Street seem little changed since Plymouth’s heyday. Most of the downtown is part of the Plymouth National Historic District.

Some buildings are dilapidated and in desperate need of repair, but others have been restored. Still others are undergoing work and there seems to be plans for almost every building in town.

The Roanoke River plays an important role in the revitalization.

Manring stepped down as flotilla commander because he and his wife, Jill, who is also a staff officer with the auxiliary, are deep into renovating the old B&W Grocery store on the town’s waterfront, turning it into a coffee shop with an area in the front for local artisans.

The view of the river from the building is spectacular. The Roanoke River is about 500 feet wide at this point. The town is on a low bluff, and across the river is marsh and dense forest.

“This river is beautiful,” Manring said. “There are 50 miles of paddling within five miles of this dock right out there. This is … a huge delta here between the Middle and Cashie rivers. This is a wonderful site for nature or photography.”

Mayor Roth agreed. Excited, speaking increasingly faster and waving his hands, Roth delights in the area’s natural diversity.

“What we haven’t talked about is Pocosin National Wildlife Refuge with a 100,000-plus migratory waterfowl, 30,000-35,000 tundra swans that come down here every year to winter over. Plus, we have 75,000 snow geese that come down here. We have an enormous amount of bird watchers and wildlife photographers who come here every year.

“And we have the black bears. We have the greatest density of black bears of anywhere in North America. We have some of the largest black bears of anywhere in the world.”

Sometimes, although rarely, the bears wander into town, but mostly they stay about 20 or 25 minutes away in the Pocosin National Wildlife Refuge. But their presence, however seldom, gave rise to the most consistently successful promotion for the town, the North Carolina Black Bear Festival, which has won numerous awards from state and regional tourism organizations.

Wave of Improvements

Tom Harrison is the owner of Diversified Wood Products, one of the wood products manufacturing companies that is still a part of Plymouth. He is also the founder of the Black Bear Festival held in June and may be one of the town’s biggest boosters.

“I’ve seen the potential that’s here. It’s a diamond in the rough,” Harrison said. “There’ll be a wave of improvements but, starting with the Bear Festival, we’ve seen the longest and most sustained improvements.”

Those improvements, though, reflect a changing economic engine for the town, something Roth, the mayor, said must happen, noting that what has occurred in Plymouth is a small-town version of Detroit, Michigan’s woes.

“Detroit lost their auto industry. Our wood products industry massively contracted,” Roth said.

“We import goods and services and we’re exporting our money,” he continued. “Nobody can survive very long that way. That’s what we are turning around. We have to change the dynamics. We do that through tourism, arts and crafts, restaurants, the river. The wildlife here is spectacular.”

That may be why the Manrings are working so hard to renovate a building built in 1906 that was once an important part of city life.

“Frankly it’s still the city for the county,” Lou said. “There’re 14,000 people who live within a 10-mile radius of here. What we’re looking to do is try to build up the downtown for the locals and the tourists.”

BEAUFORT – Construction is nearing completion of the Bonehenge Whale Center, a workshop and museum in a gorgeous new building nestled in a grove of trees at 275 West Beaufort Road.

According to its director, Keith Rittmaster, natural science curator at the North Carolina Maritime Museum in Beaufort, the building passed an inspection by the town in mid-January and has a conditional occupancy permit, and that’s a good thing, for sure.

Rittmaster has to move all of the trappings of years’ worth of work, including partly reconstructed marine mammal skeletons, out of a trailer about a football field’s length away by April and into the new building. The conditional permit allows that.

After showing a reporter the new building, then walking over to the trailer, then heading back to the soon-to-be Bonehenge building, Rittmaster was carrying stuff.

“I’m not going to walk out of here (the trailer) without taking something to the new building,” he said. “There’s a lot to move and not a lot of time.”

But what a building it is, and what a whale of a tale of community spirit Bonehenge is, both in terms of the marine-mammal-loving Carteret County community at-large and its marine science community.

The center all has been paid for with donations, and even the general contractor, Vic Fasolino, donated his time, using volunteers to do much of the work. To date, volunteer monetary donations have reached $240,000 in a little more than a year.

Recently, a stainless steel refrigerator, an oven and other kitchen equipment just showed up and fit perfectly into the kitchen, donated by Cape Carteret resident Helen Aitken and her husband, Scott.

“That’s the kind of kindness and generosity that has propelled this project from the very beginning,” Rittmaster said. “I can’t even begin to say how thankful I am for all of it.”

The aptly named Bonehenge is to be a home base for research, exhibit preparation and display, marine conservation, educational programming, outreach, publications, and stranded specimen collection and maintenance that focuses on North Carolina cetaceans or aquatic mammals.

Rittmaster and others who will work there on projects specialize in “hinging” back together marine mammal skeletons, many from animals stranded on local beaches, for display in various locations, including the Maritime Museum, state-owned Jennette’s Pier in Nags Head and eventually Bonehenge itself.

The term “Bonehenge” was conceived in 2009 to represent a volunteer-built pole barn, a fundraiser and a website dedicated to the bone preparation and skeletal re-articulation of a 33.5-foot-long male sperm whale that stranded and died at Cape Lookout in January 2004. That skeletal display, named Echo, was completed in March 2012 after years of painstaking work by Rittmaster, and is on display at the Maritime Museum.

But the new Bonehenge building is a far cry from that volunteer-built pole barn. The two-story building, a full bottom floor and a sort of loft with a walkway that looks down through open space to the first floor, is full of intricate detail and fine craftsmanship. It has a nautical feel, with the interior paneling made of pine siding, and it has warm lighting from windows and a cupola. It will be a comfortable place for the researchers, visiting students and “bone-hingers” as well as a warm and inviting place for the public to see the displays of marine mammal skeletons and other related items.

“I’m just amazed at how well it has turned out,” Rittmaster said. “I can’t say enough about how impressed I am with the quality of the work.”

When the building is ready for the public – after water and sewer service arrives via the town of Beaufort – visitors will enter through an archway made of the mandibles of a 46-foot Atlantic right whale that stranded on March 27, 2011, in Nags Head. Like everything else that will be in the building, those mandibles represent a teaching moment.

Right whales have been hunted nearly to extinction over the past centuries, and a necropsy revealed that this one had been entangled in line and had been hit by a ship.

“We want to tell people about the need for conservation of marine mammals, and about the things that threaten their existence,” Rittmaster said.

Once through the mandible archway, those who visit will walk across a floor painting by Nan Bowles of Beaufort depicting four dolphins native to the nearby waters: Butterfly, Onion, Fringe and Fringe’s calf, Frankie. It’s another teachable moment, this one about how researchers identify and track dolphins through photos. And because one of those dolphins died and was found with plastic in its stomach, it’s also an opportunity to teach about the incredible amount of plastic in our waters and the threat plastic poses to marine life.

One display in Bonehenge will be the skeleton of Capt. Morgan, a dwarf sperm whale that stranded at Morgan’s Creek Landing in Beaufort. The dwarf sperm whale is an offshore species, Rittmaster said, and the skeleton he put together has been on display at the Trinity Center in Pine Knoll Shores.

Another will be the skeletal re-articulation of a 37-foot female humpback whale named Pitfall. In 2001, at the age of 3, she was hit by a large ship and washed ashore in Massachusetts. Rittmaster was offered her remains and said yes, despite not having anywhere to display them at the time. Once the skeleton is finally assembled, Pitfall will hang from the exposed beams inside Bonehenge.

The public will be able to touch things in Bonehenge, such as whale baleen. That’s something Rittmaster is excited about, because touching helps people make a real, indelible connection to marine life.

“I want people to handle whale baleen, a material usually called whalebone,” he said in an interview in January 2018, shortly after the fundraising effort for the building began. “I want them to touch a whale heart. I want them to ‘feel’ whales and other cetaceans.”

The opening to the public, however, isn’t likely anytime soon, and will be by appointment when it happens. That’s because Rittmaster is the only staff member and he has other responsibilities. Rachel Johnson, public information officer for the town, said water and sewer service can’t be extended to the Bonehenge building until the facility is in the town limits; it’s just outside. To do that, Bonehenge would have to request voluntary annexation. Rittmaster said that’s in the works.

Bonehenge is affiliated with the Maritime Museum, through an agreement between the museum and the nonprofit organization, Carolina Cay Maritime Foundation, formed to raise the $33,000 to purchase the building’s site and the additional amount build the facility.

Rittmaster is still employed by the museum as a curator, but he also is director of Bonehenge.

He said he was advised from the beginning that it would be a long and arduous process to make Bonehenge a reality if he and the others involved sought to make it a state project. State involvement necessitates countless bureaucratic hurdles not only for property acquisition, but also for construction.

Now 62, he grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, and certainly never expected to wind up putting together dolphin and whale bones.

“Growing up I hated museums and I had no interest in bones or anatomy,” he said in a previous interview. “In fact, I thought it was macabre whenever I saw animal bones on display in someone’s home.”

It all changed in 1975, when Rittmaster, then 18, moved to Buxton on the Outer Banks. He started surfing among dolphins and saw his first whale stranding. It was a life-changing event.

He eventually met his wife-to-be, Vicky Thayer, the central coast marine mammal stranding coordinator for the Marine Mammal Stranding Network, in graduate school at Duke University.

Since 1985, Rittmaster, Thayer and others have collected bottlenose dolphin fin photos. Rittmaster said around 4,000 photos, representing about 1,200 dolphins, have been added to an online database that allows people to help match the fin photos, and in turn, lead to discoveries in bottlenose dolphin migrations, associations, genetic stocks and birthrates. Federal fish biologists use it to learn about the genetic pools of bottlenose dolphin populations.

Bonehenge is a natural extension of that work. Already, researchers and staff from the Duke University Marine Laboratory in Beaufort, the Maritime Museum, Cape Lookout National Seashore and North Carolina State University’s Center for Marine Science and Technology in Morehead City have said they want to work in the building.

In addition, thanks to a system that will allow entry to the building with one-day unlock codes, Rittmaster plans to make the facility available to volunteers and students who want to do research. There’s a room that will be equipped with a computer, stainless steel tables and seating for that purpose.

Fundraising continues for Bonehenge, with a goal of $300,000. Rittmaster said money is still needed for tools, cabinets and other necessities for great work and research.

“I’ve been overwhelmed by the generosity of our community,” he said. “I’m confident that it will continue until we reach our goal.”

To donate, visit the Bonehenge website.

KILL DEVIL HILLS – It could be argued that the reopening of the 1960 visitor center at Wright Brothers National Memorial earlier this month reinforces the keys to Orville and Wilbur Wrights’ success: patience and persistence.

Beset for much of its 58-year-existence by a leaking roof and a malfunctioning heating and air conditioning system, the modernist building has survived numerous indignities, including patchwork repairs, defunded rehabilitation and plans to demolish it.

Finally, after a two-year, $5.8 million project, the visitor center has been restored to its original art deco splendor, orange trim and all. Equally notable is the complete – and long overdue – $1.5 million redesign of the museum area and exhibits.

The Flight Room, where the domed ceiling highlights a replica of the famed 1903 Flyer, has also been revamped. The First Flight shrine, photographs of famous aviators that had lined the walls, has been replaced by a video loop featuring important moments in the history of aviation and other displays. The replica of the glider has also been removed in order to showcase the replica Flyer.

“It’s more exacting, more engaging, more relevant,” said Dave Hallac, superintendent of the National Parks of Eastern North Carolina, while speaking at a press briefing a day before the official reopening on Oct. 20. “Everything is brand new in the building, and it needed it.”

For those familiar with the pre-restoration center, the difference in the new 9,000-square-foot facility is palpable. The exhibit area is appropriately light and airy, with large placards that detail, from writings and historic photographs, the story of the bookish and always-curious Ohio brothers and their family, the Outer Banks residents on whom they depended for help, the science behind their flight experiments and the revolution of flight itself. Artifacts, some original and some reproduced, provide a fascinating peek into the technical genius of the brothers and their relentless drive to solve the mystery of flight.

Numerous quotations in large letters announce the theme or focus as visitors move through the exhibits: “Could twisting be the answer?” and portions of letters the brothers wrote to family members: “We came here for wind and sand, and we have got them.”

“We wanted to bring that active voice into the exhibits,” said supervisory park ranger Jin Prugsawan, adding the goal was to make the area more “contemplative.”

“One thing the exhibits do really well is humanize them,” she said.

The Wright brothers, after writing in 1899 to inquire about the wind, were invited by the Kitty Hawk postmaster to visit the Outer Banks to do their flight experiments. Starting in 1900, the brothers traveled from their home in Dayton, Ohio, first to Kitty Hawk and then Kill Devil Hills to conduct test flights on gliders and later a motorized plane launched from the ground on a rail.

The science of flight is interwoven with the humanity of the brothers and the Outer Bankers who helped them every year.

On Dec. 3, 1903, the brothers accomplished the goal no one had achieved until that famous day: the first heavier-than-air, controlled and manned flight.

Outside the large, clear windows facing the historic flight path, four boulders can be seen that mark each of the four successful flights. The first, at 10:35 a.m., was 12 seconds, the last was 59 seconds. Before the renovation, the view of the flight path was largely blocked.

Designated a National Historic Landmark in 2001, the building was one of the first Mission 66 visitor centers in the park service, an example of the aesthetic movement known as the Philadelphia School of modern architecture. The 10-year, mid-century Mission 66 program, initiated at the Wright Brothers Memorial, changed the agency’s focus from commemoration to interpretation to enhance the visitor experience.

Prior to the 100^th anniversary of flight in 2003, there were plans to tear down the building and replace it with a $17 million center. But the landmark designation forced the $250,000 architectural plan to be ditched.

But the building’s flat roof combined with its dome leaked practically from the beginning, creating constant issues during the frequent Outer Banks storms. Maintenance funds could not keep up with maintenance needs, and by the mid-1990s, the center was blighted by piecemeal repair work.

Numerous attempts to get the building restored fell flat, until the 100^th anniversary of the park service in 2016 inspired more funding.

Even with the complete restoration, Hallac, the park superintendent, said as much of the original historic structure as possible was maintained.

“Probably 15 million people have come through this building – so it’s a survivor,” he said. “We’ve brought it back to its original luster.”

Learn More

• Wright Brothers National Memorial

EASTERN NORTH CAROLINA – While North Carolina’s coast is known for its quiet, pristine beaches, there are miles of trails that offer hikers a chance to experience a range of natural habitats from maritime forests, pocosins and marshes to mountainous sand dunes, and even a few historic sites.

Smith Raynor, state trails planner with North Carolina State Parks, said state parks give hikers the opportunity to, “above all, to get closer to nature. To truly experience a trail, put up your cell phone and really take time to be in the moment. Observe. Listen. Smell. Breathe deeply.”

Raynor explained that trails are one of the best ways to connect people with nature, adding that interpretive trails teach about the unique environments within each state park. Established trails also serve to protect visitor safety by helping hikers avoid hazardous areas and limit the adverse effects visitors can have on the nature preserves.

A unique aspect of hiking the coast is that while most of the trails are flat and relatively easy, especially on the trails that are sandy, you can still get a good workout. Plus, you will be able to see vegetation, birds and other animals that are found nowhere else in the state, Raynor added.

Raynor said that each of the state parks on the coast have something different to offer.

In Carolina Beach State Park in New Hanover County, visitors can learn about carnivorous plants, hike Sugarloaf Dune, a prominent pre-Colonial and pre-Civil War geological feature, and the fitness trail.

At Hammocks Beach State Park in Onslow County, hike the undeveloped barrier island, Bear Island. Visitors can also watch dolphins while riding the passenger ferry. Raynor added that the park also offers a number of paddle trails and the chance to rent a canoe or kayak.

At Fort Macon State Park in Carteret County, Raynor said that in addition to exploring the rich history of the Fort, hikers can explore the new, 3.3-mile trail through maritime forest and sand dunes.

Near Washington in Beaufort County at Goose Creek State Park, there is a boardwalk through a cypress swamp in part of the 8-mile long trail system.

In nearby Tyrell and Washington counties is Pettigrew State Park where hikers can trek along the shore of Lake Phelps — and take a detour to enjoy views of the lake from a long fishing pier.

At Jockeys Ridge State Park in Dare County, “you can hike up the tallest living sand dune on the East Coast – just keep a look out for the hang gliders,” she said.

Merchants Millpond State Park in Gates County offers 9 miles of hiking trails and many more paddling trails and finally, Raynor said, at Dismal Swamp State Park in Camden County, you can really stretch your legs on 20 miles of trail.

“An important reason to have trails that many people don’t think about it is to control the impacts of visitation to the environment. Many of our parks have been established to protect fragile environments,” she said. “We want to share the wonder of these special places, but we also want to ensure that they aren’t ‘loved to death.’ Staying on trail is the way for our visitors to stay safe, learn about nature and protect the environment.”

Raynor wanted to remind hikers to be careful while using the trails, always carry water and wear the right shoes. “I know that you are at the beach, but please don’t hike in flip-flops. Wear good, supportive walking shoes or hiking boots.” She also suggested that visitors take a picture of the trail map with their phone to avoid being lost.

Other suggestions she had for hikers to make the most out of their experience and come home safely was to hike with a friend or let someone know your plans and to check the weather before heading out as storms can develop quickly over the ocean. “Lightning is a real threat,” she said.

And, of course, prepare for the inevitable insects.

“In the spring, summer and fall, ticks can be an issue. Spray your pants legs and shoes with insect repellent, wear a hat and always do a tick check when you finish. Insect repellent can also prevent mosquitoes and gnats from ruining your adventure.”

If you don’t want to brave a trail on your own yet, or would like to learn more about a specific park, Raynor said that each of the parks offer interpretive programs throughout the year.

“Additionally, there are volunteer opportunities available at each park. The very best way to learn about these opportunities is to start at the North Carolina State Parks website,” she said

“Park staff are the true experts about their parks. Stop in the visitor center and ask them questions,” she said.

Carla Edwards, is one of those park rangers who is an expert on her park, Carolina Beach State Park.

She said there are 9 miles of trails, which are relatively flat and easy to walk, that wind through a variety of distinct habitats at Carolina Beach State Park.

“The trail system snakes through many different habitats making the park a prime place to bird watch. Along the Sugarloaf Trail there are three lime-sink ponds. Not only are these ponds great for spotting water fowl, they are also a great place to hear different frogs call as well as seeing turtles and the occasional alligator. Snakes are sometimes encountered along the trails. But like most animals, give them plenty of room to escape and they are never a problem,” she said.

Not only is the park known for its diverse natural habitats, it is also known for its cultural resources, Edwards said.

“During the Civil War, much of the land that is now the park was used as an encampment for the Confederate army. There was also an earthwork embankment that stretched from Cape Fear River at Sugarloaf Dune all the way across to the sound side near the ocean. This was a part of the defense of Fort Fisher during that time. Many of these earthen works can still be seen today,” she said.

While the park is only about 2 miles from the ocean, walking through the park’s trail system resembles more of an inland pine forest than a coastal habitat, Edwards explained.

The park is home to 13 different plant communities, ranging from a brackish river marsh to a coastal fringe evergreen forest with its tall pine and oak trees. The carnivorous plants are location in the Flytrap Trail area, she said, which visitors can see up close during the ranger-led hike along the Flytrap Trail on Saturdays and Sundays in the spring, summer and fall months and on Saturday only from November to February. The park also offers cultural history hikes a few times of year.

Fort Macon State Park, like Carolina Beach State Park, offers educational programs on the history of the park as well. Lately though, Fort Macon has been a draw for hikers.

Superintendent Randy Newman said that Fort Macon has seen a large surge in hiking at the park since the addition of the 3.3 mile, Elliott Coues Natural Trail.

“Staff can go anywhere in the community and everyone is thanking us for the new trail. County residents are saying ‘the trail at Fort Macon is the best thing to happen in Carteret County in years.’ We have some visitors that have fallen in love with the trail and come every day of the week to hike,” he added.

Newman explained that Fort Macon was seeing a steady increase over the years of visitors using the road shoulder to walk, hike and bike.  In the 1980s, Fort Macon worked with North Carolina Department of Transportation to add a bike lane on both sides of the highway to increase safety, but as the popularity of walking and hiking increased, so did safety concerns for visitors along the park’s winding road. In addition to safety concerns, staff was looking for a way to have more visitors experience nature, especially the younger generation.

Creating the nature trail not only increases safety of park visitors, Newman said, but also increase the opportunity to bring awareness of the park’s natural resources and the importance of preserving and protecting natural areas not only for the present generation, but, also for generations to come.

Newman said, “The park’s trails give visitors a chance to immerse themselves in the natural wonders and unique ecosystem of a barrier island.”

He explained that the trail leads visitors through an early growth maritime forest, skirts the parks natural wetlands and returns through pristine sand dunes.

“Park visitors will see how the natural forces have shaped the barrier island fauna such as the live oaks and red cedars. Over 300 species of birds have been observed at Fort Macon State Park,” he added. “The trails give birdwatchers a great opportunity to observe these birds in their natural habitat. Park visitors can also observe the parks larger mammals such as the white-tailed deer, coyote, gray fox and marsh rabbits along the trail.”

There’s also great hiking through the coast’s Croatan National Forest, headquartered in New Bern. In Carteret, Craven and Jones counties, the forest features 160,000 acres pine forests, saltwater estuaries, bogs and raised swamps called pocosins. It is bordered on three sides by tidal rivers and the Bogue Sound.

Jeff Kincaid, a forester and recreation program manager with Croatan National Forest, said that hikers will see many different coastal ecosystems while hiking through Croatan.

Made of connecting boardwalks, the Tideland trail at Cedar Point Recreation area offers a unique view of the wetlands and estuaries while the Nuesiok trail stretches from the Neuse River to the Newport River and spans roughly 21 miles, passing through multiple forest types and ecosystems. Hikers can access the Nuesiok trail at Pinecliff Recreation area in Havelock, at Oyster Point in Newport, or at the multiple road crossing.

Another trail through part of the Croatan is the Patsy Pond area, which has multiple connecting trails of varying lengths that users can access from one parking area. Access is on N.C. 24 in Newport.

“This area is a fine example of a pine savanna. We have very diverse plants and animals on the Croatan. Whitetail deer, black bear, multiple snake species, various other reptile and amphibians and insectivorous plant species. Our area offers great opportunity for bird watchers also. You can expect to see wading, migrating and song birds out on our forest,” Kincaid said.

Kincaid explained that pocosins, or “swamps on a hill,” are unique to the area. “We also have a healthy population of the endangered red-cockaded woodpecker on our forest. These woodpeckers need the pine savannas found on our forest for their habitat,” he said.

He said that most of the trails are relatively short, around 2 miles for the most part, but, are close to each other, so visitors can hike multiple trails and get a broad overview of the Croatan National Forest in a short time frame.

Cape Hatteras National Seashore in Dare and Hyde counties and Cape Lookout National Seashore in Carteret County both offer hiking as well. Cape Hatteras has three designated hiking trails and Cape Lookout has one trail at its Harkers Island Visitor Center.

Learn More

• North Carolina Trails Program
• Croatan National Forest
• National Park Service