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From the Editor
Spring Field Trips
Ah, spring.
Even though we had hints of warm weather
back in January, most of us can't wait for the real
thing — getting home before dark, with time to
take a walk or work in the yard.
The warm weather undoubtedly brings plans
for an excursion to the coast. When you visit our
sandy shores or coastal plain, I hope you'll take
time to appreciate the history that surrounds you.
This issue of Coastwatch offers perspectives to
ponder during your next visit to the Currituck
Banks, Beaufort or Edenton.
T. Edward Nickens takes readers to Old
Currituck. He finds Roy Saunders Sr., who at age
92 is one of the few people left with memories of
the market hunting era that ended in the 1910s.
Has the Queen Anne 's Revenge, Blackbeard's flagship that ran
aground in 17 1 8, been found off Beaufort? Julie Ann Powers takes
readers into the realm of underwater archeology and artifact
conservation as historians try to document the identity of the ship
found in just 20 feet of water.
A more modem — and environmental — history lesson can
be learned by visiting the Chowan River in northeastern North
Carolina. Barbara Doll and Renee Wolcott Shannon look back at
the cooperative efforts between state water quality regulators, Sea
Grant researchers and community volunteers to determine the level
— and effect — of nutrients flowing into the river.
Of course, not all lessons at the coast involve history. The
arrival of 600-pound bluefin tuna off Cape Lookout has meant an
expansion of the Tag-a-Giant research efforts to gather migration
information on these giant fish.
Herman Link fort I
Andy Wood teaches thousands of children
each year through his role as education curator at
the N.C. Aquarium at Fort Fisher. But Wood also
finds himself teaching — and at times preaching
— environmental lessons to anyone who will
listen, as Odile Fredericks shows us.
Also, Shannon offers a suggested reading list
for armchair sailors. And finally, Kathy Hart
provides recipes that will bring back memories of
your first attempt to pick delicate meat from the
shells of blue crabs.
a a more somber note, the North Carolina
Sea Grant family mourns the death of Ruthie
Hodson, wife of our director, Ron Hodson.
Ron and Ruthie were passengers in a small plane that crashed
Jan. 30 in Florida. Ron suffered serious injuries, but he is regaining
strength day by day. We hope he will return to the office this spring.
As a new member of the Sea Grant team, I had felt Ruthie' s
welcoming nature. Veteran staff members have coundess stories of
her kind and gracious acts, of how her smile could brighten a room.
A memorial fund has been established in her honor. Contribu-
tions may be made to:
Duke University Fibromyalgia Research
Ruth E. Hodson Memorial Fund
PO Box 90581
Durham, NC 27708
Our office has received many calls and e-mails offering support
to Ron and his son, Todd. We have shared these messages with
Ron, who offers thanks for the outpouring of encouragement from
researchers, the aquaculture community, friends and colleagues. □
Katie Mosher, Managing Editor
Contributors
Writers:
Barbara Doll D Odile Fredericks 0 Ann Green n Kathy Hart D Katie Mosher
T. Edward Nickens D Jeannie Faris Norris D Julie Ann Powers D Renee Wolcott Shannon
Photographers:
Jim Bounds D Candice Cusic D Skip Kemp ° Herman Lankford
Hans Paerl D Lundie Spence D Scott D. Taylor D Erin Wall
Features
Coastal Tidings
Old Currituck
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, game birds flocked to the
sheltered waters of Currituck Sound. So did the market hunters
who shot them and sold them by the barrelful. T. Edward Nickens
describes the rise and fall of Currituck market hunting 6
Blackbeard's Flagship? Searching a Shipwreck for Clues
Have divers found the Queen Anne 's Revengel A shipwreck off
Beaufort offers a historian's treasure trove: guns, bottles and
possibly a trace of pirate gold 14
Blackbeard: The Man and the Myth
That bristling beard, those smoking pigtails! It's Blackbeard, of
course. Discover how he lived and where he died — and how
his history is intertwined with coastal North Carolina 17
Patience Pays Off: The Rebirth of the Chowan River
Gives Hope for the Neuse
Today the Chowan River is a beautiful backdrop for historic down-
town Edenton, but in the 1970s it was better known for its carpet
of algae. Take a look at how North Carolina battled the blue-green
scum — and won 18
Sea Science: On the Trail of Giants: Bluefin Tuna Research
Expands to Cape Lookout
Bluefin tuna are bringing fishers and scientists from all over the world
to North Carolina each winter. Catch the excitement and reel in the
latest on tuna tagging 24
Book Market: Armchair Sailing
If you're hankering for a good book about sailing the open ocean,
read no further. Whether you need practical tips, a historic adventure,
a tour of southern seaports or a story to entertain your kids, we've
got a book for you 27
People & Places: Saving Snails ... And Other Steps Toward
a Healthy Planet
Andy Wood is education curator for the N.C Aquarium at Fort
Fisher. He teaches, preaches and cajoles to get North Carolina
residents involved with saving the environment 30
Maritime Morsels: Crabby Fare
Blue crabs are both beautiful and delicious. Kathy Hart offers up
tasty ways to use their sweet, delicate meat 32
COASTWATCH 1
Coastwatch
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Jeannie Faris Norris
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 12-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http://www2.ncsu.edu/sea_grant/seagrant.html.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch, North Carolina Sea Grant,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
Front cover photo of boat and decoy
by Scott D. Taylor.
Table of contents photo of Currituck
Sound by Scott D. Taylor.
Printed on recycled paper. 0
Database to Reflect
Power of Hurricane Fran
Thele gacy of Hurricane Fran lives on.
Spencer Rogers, North Carolina Sea
Grant's coastal construction and erosion
specialist, is working with state and federal
agencies to bm
develop a
comprehensive
data bank on the
September 1996
hurricane, which
is considered a
100-year storm-
surge event.
The
extensive
database will
provide wide
opportunity for analysis. For example,
researchers can determine the success of
beach nourishment efforts by comparing
damage in those areas to damage sustained
outside the nourishment zone.
"In the past we have done a better job
of looking at individual buildings, what
happened to them and why," Rogers says.
"We have not done as good a job of looking
at what happened at a community level and
why."
Rogers is collaborating with many
agencies to develop the data bank, including
the mapping lab at the North Carolina State
University Department of Civil Engineering,
the N.C. Division of Coastal Management,
the Federal Emergency Management
Administration's hazard mitigation grant
program, the National Oceanic and
'.nee Atmospheric
Administration's
Coastal Services
Center and the
U.S. Army Corps
of Engineers.
Damage
statistics are
being gathered
for erosion,
overwash and
t ■/ / 1 Atuv • f. flood zones.
lopsail Island felt Fran s jury. Within these
zones, damage assessments will include
data such as building location, size, value,
age and foundation type.
'We will have flood insurance claims
of actual damage from a 100-year storm
surge that should have been handled by
current construction codes. These reports
will show the real cost to the flood
insurance program and to the public,"
Rogers says.
"Fran's sustained wind speeds in most
of the developed areas were less than 1 10
miles per hour and thus did not provide a
full test of the 50-year wind standard used
in the building code." — K.M.
In the Next Issue of Coastwatch
n the next issue of Coastwatch, Julie Ann Powers takes you to Portsmouth —
the biggest and busiest town on the Outer Banks for decades after its founding in
1 753. But Portsmouth's fortunes ebbed with the whims of the sea. Today, the
remote village on Cape Lookout National Seashore is preserved as a testament to
island life. Occupied now only by memories, Portsmouth whispers its history in
the sweep of the wind, the murmur of the distant surf and the creak of every
rusted door hinge.
And while you may have visited an aquarium or two, have you ever been
to an estuarium? Ann Green will take you to the North Carolina Estuarium
operated by the Partnership for the Sounds.
2 SPRING 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Citizen Research through
Fishery Resource Grants
mm
One 1998 study examined hard clam growth and survival.
People who work the water for a
living often have the best ideas for
improving fisheries resources —
developing better gear, protecting
habitat, or
testing
innovations in
aquaculture or
seafood
technology.
Rarely do
these people
have the time
and money to
pursue then-
ideas ... unless,
of course, they
live in North
Carolina.
The
N.C. Fishery
Resource Grant Program, administered
by North Carolina Sea Grant and funded
by the N.C. General Assembly, invests
in the ideas of the people who work in
fishing industries.
This year, applicants proposed 57
projects. In March, the N.C. Marine
Fisheries Commission (MFC) is
expected to select those projects to be
funded in 1999.
The innovative program allows a
natural pairing of expertise and ideas.
Sea Grant specialists and agents hold
workshops and work one-on-one with
applicants to help develop ideas into
projects that can produce meaningful,
quantifiable results. In its four-year
history, the program has yielded
marketable innovations such as scallop
medallions that are molded from scallop
fragments without precooking or
freezing. Other projects examine
environmental impacts of human
activities, such as the effect of bottom
trawling or the removal of a dam on fish
migration.
Sea Grant organizes both in- and
out-of-state reviews of all applications
before the MFC considers them.
Funding is provided by the N.C. General
Assembly, which has pledged $1 million
Skip Kemp annually
since it
established
the program
in 1994. To
date, more
than 140
projects have
been funded.
When
the projects
are com-
pleted, the
researchers
are required
to share their
findings
among fellow fishers, the MFC and
academic institutions.
Ultimately, the citizen research
yields information about North
Carolina's fisheries and shows how
these resources can be used and
managed more effectively.
Pending approval by the MFC, a
video explaining how to apply for a
Fishery Resource Grant will be available
soon through North Carolina Sea Grant
and the Division of Marine Fisheries.
The video, a Bill Hitchcock production,
will be shown on "North Carolina
Saltwater," a weekly magazine-style
television show about the North
Carolina coast, and on the World Wide
Web at http://www.ncsaltwater. com/.
Sea Grant specialists are also
available to discuss the program —
how to apply or to review completed
projects. Call Sea Grant's Raleigh office
at 919/51 5-2454 or its field offices in
Wilmington (910/256-2083), Morehead
City (252/247-4007) and Nags Head
(252/441-3663).
— J.F.N.
Around the Network:
Seeing the
Sounds of
Silence:
Marine
Sciences
for the Deaf
Science scores are generally
lower for deaf students than their
hearing counterparts. Connecticut
Sea Grant aims to change mat-
in a project funded by Sea
Grant, Pete Scheifele, director of
marine education programs for the
National Undersea Research
Center, North Atlantic and Great
Lakes, is working with teachers and
students from the American School
for the Deaf in Hartford, Conn., to
help students leam basic science
and math through a hands-on
marine science curriculum.
Students are working on a
research project in underwater
acoustics, learning to use sonar
technology to distinguish ambient
noises in Long Island Sound and the
Gulf of Maine from the sounds of
aquatic animals and human
activities. They "hear" the sounds
by studying computer printouts
representing the sounds' wave-
forms.
Scheifele says deaf students
tend to have lower science scores
because "there are no signs in
American Sign Language for
scientific terms, so each term must
be spelled out letter by letter. It
takes the deaf person about three
times longer to absorb the same
material as the hearing student"
Scheifele aims to address the
problem by working with a high
school science teacher and an
audiologist to put together a book
of new scientific signs.
COASTWATCH 3
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Around the Network:
Researchers
Develop Diet
for Larval Cod
Since hatchery-raised baby
cod are no bigger than eyelashes,
their menu is rather limited. Even
brine shrimp and rotifers,
microscopic aquatic animals, are
too large for them to eat
With Maine/New Hampshire
Sea Grant support, researchers at
the universities of New Hamp-
shire, Maine and Rhode Island
have developed artificial foods
acceptable to cod larvae. Linda
Wing, a University of Maine
professor, and Michael Opitz, a
Cooperative Extension veterinar-
ian, conducted the research.
"We tested four experimental
diets and one commercial food,"
says Kling. "One of the four does
look promising."
Diet has proven to be a major
obstacle to successful cod
aquaculture in New England.
When cod eggs hatch, the tiny
larvae draw on their yolk sacs for
energy. In the wild, when the sacs
are depleted, the young fish eat
tiny marine organisms called
zooplankton. However, zooplank-
ton are difficult to raise in a
hatchery.
In 1997, Kling and Opitz
received a $477,000 federal grant
from the National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration to
develop commercial methods for
raising cod and haddock in
aquaculture pens. Both cod and
haddock, which are found from
Maine to New Jersey, are severely
depleted in the Gulf of Maine.
—AG.
Uncovering Croatan Artifacts
During an
archaeological dig in
Buxton, East Carolina
University researchers
unearthed a 16th-
century gold signet ring
that links the Croatan
Native Americans to
the Roanoke Island
settlement.
Recently, the
ECU team found the
ring — enscribed with
a lion — on a site
occupied by the
Croatans during the
17th and 1 8th centuries.
"This ring is significant because it is
the first time we have tied the Croatans to
Roanoke Colony," says David Phelps,
director of ECU's Coastal Archaeology
Office. "The Croatans were the only Indian
allies of the English settlers at Roanoke
Island. Since gold was not traded in the
Indian network, someone gave the ring to
the Croatans."
Pholo courtesy of East Carolina University
This elaborately decorated cooking pot
was found at the Croatan site.
This excavation
is part of an ongoing
Croatan project that
began in 1997.
During the latest dig,
researchers found
evidence that the
earliest occupation of
the site dates back
2,000 years — about
the time of Christ
They also uncovered
artifacts from a
Native American
workshop active
during the 17th and
18th centuries —
from three hearth fires with English coins
to a ceramic cooking pot
'This link shows Croatan Indians
adapted to European technology," says
Phelps. "They converted from bows and
arrows to muskets."
The public will be able to view some
of the artifacts at museum exhibits planned
this year in North Carolina — A G.
Fish Stocks on the Mend
The National Marine Fisheries
Service is increasing efforts to correct
overfished conditions and better protect
many important fisheries, according to
Terry Garcia, U.S. Department of
Commerce assistant secretary for oceans
and atmosphere.
Under proposed amendments to the
existing law, the service will take steps to
manage marine fish stocks more
effectively and protect fish habitats across
the country.
Fishery officials believe the goals of
the Sustainable Fisheries Act's new
management strategy also will result in
bycatch reduction and more environmen-
tally friendly fishing practices.
'Fishermen, their communities and
all who are concerned with conservation
are relying on us to succeed," says Garcia,
who is also a National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration deputy
administrator. "The Sustainable Fisheries
Act represents a major policy shift by the
federal government to ensure that we
achieve the greatest long-term benefits to
the nation from our fishery resources."
The act was mandated by the 1996
reauthorization of the nation's primary
fisheries law, the Magnuson-Stevens
Fishery Conservation and Management
Act.
Under the plan, the managers of the
eight regional fishery management councils
are drafting amendments to the existing
management plans. North Carolina is
represented on the mid- Atlantic and south
Atlantic councils. The agency will review
the amendments by the end of July.
—AG.
4
SPRING 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
N.C. Aquariums Expanding
Want a close-up view of reef fishes
swimming along a re-created USS Monitor
shipwreck in a 180,000-gallon ocean tank?
How about examining sea stars, rays and
urchins?
These
aquatic animals
will be featured
in the newly
renovated N.C.
Aquarium at
Roanoke Island,
scheduled to re-
open in spring
2000. The
Roanoke
aquarium and
the two other
aquariums will
double their size and expand their
educational efforts, thanks to a $32 million
appropriation from the N.C. General
Assembly.
The renovated 70,000-square-foot
facility at Roanoke Island will feature the
"Waters of the Outer Banks," highlighting
local freshwater, brackish and ocean
environments. New and larger tanks will
house sharks, barracuda, sea turtles and
other marine life found in the Outer Banks'
aquatic habitats.
I/N.C Aq,
The Fort Fisher aquarium at the
mouth of the Cape Fear River, which will
not close for renovations, will feature the
"Waters of the Cape Fear River System."
Tanks and
exhibits will
highlight
aquatic life
found in
freshwater
A model of the renovated Roanoke Island Aquarium
rivers, swamps,
estuaries and
open ocean.
The
aquarium's
centerpiece is a
180,000-gallon
ocean habitat, a
two-story tank
offering multilevel views of large sharks,
groupers, barracuda and loggerhead turtles
swimming around re-created Cape Fear
rock ledges.
The Pine Knoll Shores aquarium,
which will close this fall for renovations,
will feature "Aquatic Life from the
Mountains to the Sea." The five North
Carolina aquatic zones include mountain
streams, piedmont rivers and lakes, coastal
plain waters, swamps, marshes and open
ocean. — AG.
Get Wise about Water
Where does drinking water come
from? What is an aquifer? How does a
septic tank work? Who monitors water
pollution?
If you've ever pondered questions like
these, North Carolina Sea Grant has a
book to help you answer them. The new
Coastal Water Quality Handbook is a source
of information for North Carolina citizens
who want to maintain and improve the
quality of their coastal waters.
The 72-page book answers many of
the questions concerned residents have
asked Sea Grant in letters and at public
meetings. Topics include water quality,
river and estuarine pollution, the impor-
tance of estuarine habitats, water quality
and fisheries, seafood safety, coastal
drinking water and water treatment, the
legal framework for protecting water
quality and the actions citizens can take to
improve water quality.
Illustrations and a glossary help make
unfamiliar terms clear to the lay reader. To
order a copy, send a check for $6 to North
Carolina Sea Grant, NC State University,
Box 8605, Raleigh, NC 27695-8605. Ask
for publication UNC-SG-97-04. — R.W.S.
Fish
Sounds
Feople think of the ocean as
a quiet, restful place — but the
truth is, it can be downright noisy.
Boats, submarines and personal
watercraft all make distinctive
sounds that the U.S. Navy
monitors and classifies. But the
world of underwater sound does
not stop there.
The lonesome songs of
humpback whales and the whistles
and clicks of dolphins are well-
known, but undersea mammals
are not the only noisy creatures in
the deep. In fact, says Sea Grant
fisheries agentjim Bahen, some
anglers can identify fish by their
sounds.
White perch and snapping
shrimp make loud dicks that are
audible through boat hulls.
Croaker sound like frogs. Red
drum are so called because they
make a drumming sound with
their air bladders.
Fishers also know that some
boats have a particular hum that
attracts fish. Large pelagic fish
such as tuna and mackerel,
though they don't make noises
themselves, seem to prefer boats
with certain engine sounds and
will come up to investigate when
they hear them.
Of course, fish don't have
ears like ours. Most have bones
called otoliths — ear stones —
that perceive sound vibrations.
Scientists also theorize that fish
"hear" sound through their lateral
lines. This "sixth sense" is
presumed to be what prevents fish
from running into one another
when they school.
— R.W.S.
COASTWATCH 5
6 SPRING 1999
Old Cumtuck
Market hunting on Currituck Sound shaped
the people and pride of Currituck country,
as surely as it shaped national conservation policy
By T. Edward Nickens
T
JLt must have been the Christmas of
191 1 or 1912 when Santa Claus brought
Roy Mervin Saunders Sr. a BB gun. "It
was a little Daisy air rifle," Saunders says,
sitting in the tidy living room of his small
house in Chesapeake, Va., where he has
lived for nearly 60 years.
Saunders clutched that prized BB gun
with tiny hands as he boated across
Currituck Sound, from the Poplar Branch
boat landing toward a marshy spit called
Red Head Point. His father, Ellie Wilson
Saunders, watched over their newfangled
one-cylinder Mianus engine. His
granddaddy, Daniel Wilson Saunders, kept
his hand on the tiller. The boat was hand-
built, a semi-deadrise skiff about 21 feet
long. It was an unseasonably mild winter
morning nearly 90 years ago.
As long as he could remember —
which wasn't so very long, for Saunders
was not yet 6 years old — he had been at
his daddy's heels, begging to go along on a
duck hunt. The Saunders men were noted
gunners of Currituck Sound, market
hunters who killed ducks, geese and swans
they then sold to game dealers for
shipment to Northern markets.
"At that time, you could kill any-
thing," Saunders explains. "There was no
limit whatsoever. You could kill all you
could kill, and you could sell 'em." With
his BB gun in hand, Saunders was on an
adventure he would never forget, his first
trip across Currituck.
The wind was light and from the
west. Shooting was only fair, Saunders
recalls, until the wind rose and shifted to
north, and bitter cold bore down on the
sound in a weather shift not unknown on
Currituck. Then ducks and geese filled the
air. Their numbers were startling.
Saunders' father and granddaddy
would shoot at as many as three flocks of
geese before laying down their guns to
collect the birds. Saunders busied himself
with his Daisy rifle, but before long he'd
run out of BBs and was shivering cold.
Ellie Saunders began to worry about the
little boy. He hustled him under the bow of
the boat and packed dead ducks and geese
all around him.
"Then they went back to shooting and
kept piling fowl all around me," Saunders
says. "Covered me up till I couldn't see
daylight, but I could hear, and I could hear
'em shooting." Throughout the long
afternoon Saunders waited in a warm
chrysalis of dead birds, listening to the
boom of his daddy's 12-gauge double-
barreled shotgun and the grumbling
thunder of his granddaddy's 10-gauge, till
darkness silenced them for the day.
As Saunders tells this story he is 92
years old, dressed in plaid pants and a
plaid shirt. He gestures vividly — fingers
fluttering like ducks raining from the sky,
hands holding an imaginary gun to trace a
goose's arcing flight. "I'm an odd fellow,"
Continued
COASTWATCH 7
R
remembers hunting with
his father and grandfather
nearly 00 years ago.
"At drat time, you could hill
anything ... There was
no limit whatsoever.
You could hill all you could
hill, and you could sell em. "
Saunders, hnown for a
tach-sharp memory,
is one of die few men
living who recall firsthand
anything at all of the market
hunting era that defined
Currituck Sound from the
1870s through the IQlOs.
Roy Saunders takes aim with his grandfather's douhle-harreled shotgun.
he says. "Can't see out of my left eye and
can't hear out of my right ear!" Saunders,
known for a tack-sharp memory, is one of
the few men living who recall firsthand
anything at all of the market hunting era
that defined Currituck Sound from the
1870s through the 1910s.
For nearly 50 years, this northeastern
comer of North Carolina supplied untold
numbers of waterfowl and shorebirds —
hundreds of thousands, surely; millions,
perhaps — to the tables of Norfolk,
Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York and
beyond. Initially overlooked and over-
shadowed by the ubiquity of market
gunning in the Chesapeake Bay region,
the market gunners of Currituck had by
the 1910s earned the scorn of the nation's
scientific and naturalist communities.
As America struggled with the loss of
passenger pigeons, the destruction of
heron and egret populations for the
making of hats and the decimation of
buffalo herds, market gunning in
Currituck and beyond was held up to the
U.S. Congress as an egregious example
of the shortcomings of national wildlife
policy.
Then, in 1918, the sale of migratory
waterfowl was banned. Nearly overnight
an enterprise that for a half century
supplemented the winter incomes of
hundreds of Currituck families vanished.
Men who once gunned Currituck Sound
for the market turned to guiding for the
grand and glitzy duck clubs owned by
wealthy Northern businessmen.
Books are plentiful about the duck
clubs of the North Carolina coast, but the
heritage of commercial waterfowl hunting
and the role it played in shaping America's
conservation ethic are little considered.
Market gunning is known mostly by
reputation, a handful of pages in local
history books and scratched, blurry
photographs that surface in the occasional
journal. And it is a story increasingly
difficult to tell.
Q
Id duck hunters would have
loved the Currituck weather that greets me
one howling winter day: skies gray as old
fish, winds roaring at 25 mph and raw
cold, just a notch or two above the freezing
mark. I hope to find a few men who
remember the region's market hunting
days, but this is a tall order. Eight decades
have passed since market hunting was
oudawed, so any memories will be in the
heads of Currituckians 90 years old or
better. I travel from Corolla to Jarvisburg,
to Currituck village and Waterlily.
Everywhere I hear a common refrain: /
remember my daddy tellin' me... .No, I
wasn 't born yet, but ol' man Wright, why,
he 'd tell us about those days.
I meet folks like Norris Austin of
Corolla whose daddy was postmaster and
whose granddaddy was the last keeper of
the Currituck light. Austin remembers his
father's tales of killing and shipping ducks,
but no, he came along too late to ever see
them pack a barrel full of fowl or reload
brass shells by lantern light.
There are folks like Walton Carter,
down at the Currituck-Knotts Island ferry
depot. No, he doesn't remember either, but
his mama lived above the old store at
Coinjock, and she might have sold market
hunters shells or bought ducks a time or
two. No, sir, you'll be hard-pressed to find
any of those fellows still around.
8 SPRING 1999
And they are right. Few firsthand
stories can be told of the old market
hunting days, and few are as resonant as
those of Saunders, entombed in dead fowl
and thrilling to a chorus of goose music,
wind whining through marsh grass and
gun-thunder rolling across the sound.
It would be difficult to imagine a
place more providential for waterfowl than
Currituck Sound. About 30 miles long, the
shallow sound lies north to south, from just
across the Virginia state line to the tip of
the peninsula that hems in Albemarle
Sound. Bounded by the North Carolina
mainland to the west and the Outer Banks
to the east, it is rarely greater than four
miles across. Long ago an inlet cut through
the Currituck Outer Banks, and the sound's
waters were brine. But drifting sands
closed the inlet in 1 828. Cut off from direct
ocean access, the sound's waters fresh-
ened. Oyster beds disappeared, and
saltwater fish were wiped out.
In their place, however, came
enormous numbers of perch, bass, eels and
underwater plains of freshwater plants
relished by waterfowl. The Currituck
Sound bottom, reported Alexander Hunter
in 1 892, was "one mass of wild celery."
Untold numbers of wintering ducks, geese
and swans piled into the shallow waters —
black ducks, pintails, widgeon and teal
packing into open marsh ponds, while
diving ducks such as canvasbacks,
redheads and scaup rafted up by the
thousands on the windswept open waters.
Stories of duck flocks that darkened the
sky are not uncommon, nor far off the
mark. Even today, ducks can be so
numerous in Currituck Sound that they
appear as islands, thin dark smudges
against the slate-gray water, until they take
wing in cyclonic swarms.
It didn't take long for Currituck
farmers to turn to this supply of game for
cash money. Edmund Ruffin, a Virginia
editor who traveled extensively in the
Currituck region in the 19th century, wrote
of an Edgar Burroughs who owned a large
farm just across the Virginia line. In the
mid- to late 1850s, Burroughs hired 30
gunners to hunt from his farm. He sold
Norris Austin, whose grandfather was the last keeper of the Currituck light, shares family tales.
ammunition to the hunters and paid a fixed
price for every duck, goose and swan they
delivered.
In a single winter his hunters went
through 1 ton of gunpowder, 4 tons of lead
shot and 46,000 percussion caps. "From
this expenditure, along the shore of one
large farm only," Ruffin figured, "there
may be some faint conception of the
immensity of the operations, and the
results, along shores extending for full one
hundred and fifty miles, and on all of
which the same business is regularly
pursued."
When the Chesapeake and Albemarle
Canal was completed from Currituck
Sound to Norfolk in 1 859, Currituck
gunners gained direct and swift access to
Northern markets. Steamers made thrice-
weekly runs to formerly remote outposts
such as Knotts Island, Poplar Branch and
Church Island. By 1861, Ruffin wrote, "the
killing of wild water-fowl [in Currituck
Sound was] a branch of industry of
considerable importance for its amount of
profit. Its extent is scarcely known by any
person out of this region."
In its infancy, gunning
for market in Currituck was
a simple affair. "Ducks was
shot sitting and at the rise,"
Henry B. Ansell wrote in his
unpublished manuscript
Tales of Knotts Island, a
recounting of sound life
from the 1830s to 1907.
"The crawling practice was
in vogue. Go into the marsh
with noiseless care; look
over the coves, creeks and
ponds; see if any of the
feathered tribe have
ventured near enough to
shore for a shot; if so, down
on hands and knees, often in
mud and water; crawl to the
water's edge; peep through
the marginal marsh or galls;
see where ducks were
thickest. Ready — aim —
bang. Fuss and feathers.
Continued
COASTWATCH 9
what clatter and scramble: There might be
three or four or a score of dead and crippled
ducks."
In those early years, a waterfowler's
gun was most likely an English or French
muzzle-loader, a large 10-gauge shotgun
fired by flint and steel. Some used much
larger firearms — punt guns with barrels 2
inches in diameter, lashed to small skiffs
and fired like cannons. The numbers of
birds killed with the single blast of such a
gun were impressive, but by the late 19th
century a tactic had emerged in Currituck
that would define waterfowl hunting there
for decades: gunning from a floating
battery blind, or sinkbox.
The battery was a complicated affair,
at its core a shallow rectangular box some
15 inches deep, slanting upward at the head
end so a gunner lying prone could barely
see all around. This box was attached to
horizontal wooden decking on all sides, and
large "wings" of woodslat and canvas were
hinged, accordion-style, to the decking.
Floating in the sound, these wings blunted
the action of waves, riding up and over
each crest. The battery was painted gray to
resemble the water surface.
Using their shad boats or larger
vessels, market hunters would sail or motor
to the hunting grounds, then lower the
battery with a boom and tackle mounted to
a mast. Hundreds of decoys were placed
around the battery, mostly canvasbacks
and redheads. Once the gunner had
climbed into the shallow box, battery
weights and iron decoys were placed on
the wings to settle the blind even lower in
the water. The gunner's partner or "pick-up
man" waited downwind to retrieve dead
birds and aid the gunner if rough weather
suddenly appeared.
Even in the best weather, gunning
from a "lay-down" battery (deeper "sit-up"
batteries or "sinkboxes" were subsequently
developed) was uncomfortable. "No favor
being accorded to the cramped-up
sportsman," reported Frank Leslie's
Illustrated Newspaper in 1878, although
occasionally gunners tossed hay in the
coffin box for a meager cushion or placed a
piece of heated soapstone between the feet.
Shooting from a battery was "an
ordeal that must have been passed through
to be justly appreciated. To lie as though in
one's coffin, without moving a muscle,
with the eye and ear ever on the strain, to
enjoy the luxury of cramps and stiffness
and soreness, while a curting breeze passes
over the 'sneakbox,' shaving the face as if
by machinery, is the inner life of battery
shooting ... ." When storms blew, wrote
one waterfowling historian, the hole of a
battery "was the coldest and wettest spot in
the world."
Floating far out in the middle of the
sound, battery gunners slaughtered the
ducks. "On Currituck," wrote H.H.
Brimley of the North Carolina Museum of
Natural Sciences, "bags of a hundred a day
from a battery were not rare enough to get
one's name in the paper." One day in 1917,
Van Griggs, considered a crack shot even
by Currituck standards, killed 518 ducks
out of his first 600 shots. His pick-up man
insisted that his one-day kill must have
exceeded 700 birds. On another day, one
of Griggs' gunning partners killed 568
ducks, mostly ruddy ducks, out of two
300-shell cases.
Battery blinds were so effective that
they eventually became illegal. "If you
ever sat in one, in a battery, you'd
understand right quick why they outlawed
W7
V \intering ducks,
geese and swans piled
into the shallow waters —
black ducks, pintails,
widgeon and teal packing
into open marsh ponds,
while diving ducks such
as canvasbacks, redheads
and scaup rafted up by
the thousands on the wind-
swept open waters. Stories of
duck flocks that darkened the
sky are not uncommon,
nor far off the mark.
In this ph oto from the market-hunting era, men shoot from a double sit-down battery.
10 SPRING 1999
G
^^^^one are many of the
old landings and wharves
where generations
of Currituckians labored,
shipping out fish and fowl
and farm harvests. In
Poplar Branch, the rotted
and ramshackle wharves
were burned April 23, 1Q6Q,
by the Lower Currituck
Fire Department at the
request of the N.C. Wildlife
Resources Commission.
A public boat ramp was
installed as locals lamented
the loss of another piece
of the past.
The Whalehead Club in Corolla features huntingf displays.
them," Wilson Snowden says. A
businessman and lifelong resident of
Currituck County, Snowden helped raise
and restore the battery blind owned by the
Currituck Wildlife Guild, the only one he
knows of in the county. "You'd set there,
and the ducks come floatin' in right in
front of you, just like you walked out there
in neck-deep water."
JL/ut putting ducks on the water
was only a part of the market gunner's
task. Getting them to market was the
other.
Steamboats such as the Cygnet,
Comet and Currituck generally ran three
times a week along a route from Norfolk
to central Currituck Sound, stopping at
Munden Point on Knotts Island, Waterlily
on Church Island, Aydlett and on to the
Poplar Branch landing. Early on, Poplar
Branch evolved as a major commercial
hub of the Currituck Sound region, with
grocery stores, dry-goods merchants,
barbershop, locksmith, gun shop and at
least one hotel.
Saunders remembers it well. There
was a gristmill near the landing, a store and
barrel factory on the end of the dock on the
left-hand side and a long, wooden wharf
where the steamers tied up, with skiffs and
shad boats bobbing on both sides. Down
the middle of the wharf ran a track of 4-by-
4 planking on which a railroad truck about
10 feet long was mounted for help in
loading and unloading freight. Near the far
end of the track, out over the water, was
the fish and fowl house where ducks were
stored and packed for shipping.
"When the season opened," Saunders
recalls, "and they went to shooting, Mister
John Luke Gregory had a place they called
the cooler that was always full of ice where
they would hang the fowl up. I've been in
it many times, just a rough building, boards
up and down with battens on the cracks,
and inside where the framing was, it was
drove full of nails. The whole place would
be lined with ducks, all the way around it
as high as a man could reach. I'm satisfied
in my mind that there would be from 300
to 400 in there sometimes."
Descriptions of the packing process
vary slightly but follow a general pattern:
Birds were shipped unplucked and with all
entrails intact. (Game birds can typically be
stored in such fashion for a week or more,
depending on the weather.) The fowl were
packed in wooden fish barrels large enough
to hold 150 pounds of perch, black bass,
carp or eels. Often a stovepipe was first
inserted into the middle of the barrel and
filled with ice, and birds were packed
around it. As the ice melted, the water
drained out of the stovepipe and more could
be added. Sometimes a chunk of ice was
simply laid into the center of the barrel and
birds packed tightly around it, with heads
folded under the wings.
Prices paid for waterfowl varied
through the years. Frank Leslie 's Illustrated
Newspaper reported in 1878 that canvas-
backs brought $ 1 . 10 per pair "on the waters
to dealers." Brimley visited "Uncle Ned"
Midyette's lodge on Church Island in 1884
and noted that gunners were paid cash on
the spot by game buyers: $ 1 per pair of
canvasbacks, 50 cents per pair of redheads,
30 cents per pair of "common ducks" and
25 cents for a foursome of teal, bufflehead
or ruddy ducks, also called boobies.
C o n t i n u e d
COASTWATCH 11
Around the turn of the century,
according to Elizabeth City native Jack
Baum, the price for canvasbacks varied
from $2 to $5 a pair, but it seldom
dropped below $2.50; redheads brought
about $1.50; scaup about 75 cents;
ruddies from 50 to 75 cents; marsh ducks
and swan, 75 cents; and geese from $ 1 to
$ 1 .50. "A man had to work hard to make
a living at these prices, but some of them
did it," Baum says.
As the market matured, with greater
numbers of birds and more reliable
transportation, hunters sold their birds on
commission. In her elegiac memoirs,
Edith Gallop Parker recalled that her
father had brass stencils from the
"commissionmen" he most frequently
sold to. "It just took some lamp black
mixed with kerosene and a stubby brush
to stencil on who it was consigned to and
who it was from," she wrote. "Most of the
game was shipped to Northern cities to
commissionmen who put them on the
market and sold them on a percentage
basis. And Pa would get a check in return
.... All produce was shipped this way, as
well as game." Fowl buyers also would
visit the batteries out in the sound and
purchase ducks directly from hunters.
For the hunters, gunning for market
was a reliable source of income at a time
of year when there was little money to be
made. "The returns in game killed and
secured ... are as sure as the profits of any
ordinary labor of agriculture or trade, and
far larger for the capital and labor
employed," observed Ruffin.
During the winter of 1907-1908, the
Audubon Society of North Carolina
reported that 400 men, "a conservative
estimate," shot ducks and geese in
Currituck Sound for the market trade.
From 1903 to 1909, by another estimate,
Currituck market hunters were paid no
less than $100,000 per year for fowl
shipped to Northern markets. In the
winter season of 1 9 1 0- 1 9 1 1 , according to
one report, just under a quarter of a
million wildfowl were shipped from
Currituck Sound.
q
S-s uch harvest drew the ire of a
nation in the midst of birthing a new
conservation ethic. Across the country, the
trade in bird skins and feathers for the
millinery trade had raised a legion of
politically active naturalists with a potent
name: the National Association of
Audubon Societies. As early as 1885, the
trade in wild birds for food had been a
cause for concern among the scientific
community. By the turn of the century the
American taste for wild game had whittled
the billion-bird flocks of passenger pigeons
down to pitiful remnants — the last
sighting in North Carolina came in 1894.
Scorn for market hunters, and in
particular the gunners of Currituck,
bubbled over at all levels. Few railed with
the thunder of William T. Homaday, the
obstreperous director of the New York
Zoological Park. Currituck County, he
wrote in 1913, is "the bloodiest slaughter-
pen for waterfowl that exists anywhere on
the Atlantic Coast." A poster outlining the
migration routes of ducks from across
North America to their Currituck wintering
grounds was distributed to gamer support
for protective measures.
Increasingly, the market hunter
became a paradox of his time, the provider
of a much-sought commodity to a public
that could no longer accept the facts that
lay beyond the rim of the dinner plate.
Measure by measure, a wall of regulation
was built around his trade. In 1900, the
federal Lacey Act went into effect,
establishing the framework for states to use
protections afforded interstate commerce
by the U.S. Constitution to enforce state
wildlife laws. Between 1901 and 1902,
portions of the American Ornithologists'
Union's "model law" were passed by
legislatures in most Atlantic seaboard
states.
On March 6, 1903, the Audubon Act
became law in North Carolina making it
unlawful to kill any wild bird other than a
game bird (liberally defined to include
even plover, robin and meadowlark) and
various nuisance birds. The Audubon
Society of North Carolina was given
authority to sell out-of-state hunting
licenses in order to pay for its own "bird
and game wardens" to act on behalf of the
state. It was, according to the society's T.
Gilbert Pearson, "the first law ever enacted
in any South Atlantic or Gulf state to
provide for a state game- warden system."
The North Carolina organization
threw itself into its new duties. In its first
year, the Audubon Society of North
Carolina fielded 29 wardens, with four
stationed in Currituck County to help stem
the growing practice of shooting ducks at
night with the use of a bright light. By
1907, the Audubon payroll included 100
wardens from the mountains to the coast,
and the society's new gasoline-powered
patrol boat, the Dovekie, was launched in
Currituck Sound. Its home mooring was
just off the Poplar Branch waterfront.
Then, in 1909, North Carolina passed
legislation that broke the back of the
Audubon Society's protection efforts.
Fifty-two counties, including Currituck,
exempted themselves from the Audubon
Law and gave local county commissioners
enforcement power. The state's short-lived
experiment in allowing a private concern
to police its marshes, waters and forests
was over, but not the movement that gave
it life.
In New York in 191 1, the Baynes Act
was passed, banning the sale of native wild
game throughout the state. As the gavel
sounded in Albany, 191,376 wild birds,
including 98,156 ducks and 48,780
plovers, lay in cold storage in New York
City. The East Coast's largest game
markets were shut down.
In March 1913, the Weeks-McLean
Law took effect, placing waterfowl,
migratory game and migratory insectivo-
rous birds under the custody and protection
of the federal government. For the first
time a federal agency, the U.S. Department
of Agriculture, was given the authority to
write and enforce regulations to protect
wild animal populations. In 1916, federal
law prohibited the shooting of wild birds in
the spring and banned all night shooting.
The United States began negotiating with
England on items that had already been
agreed upon with Canada penning the
12 SPRING 1999
V \ilson and Barbara
Snowden are keepers
of Currituck history.
She is a school teacher and
Currituck County historian,
and he is a businessman,
farmer, longtime volunteer
fire department chief and
boat restorer. Wilson
Snowden helped raise and
restore the battery blind
owned by the Currituck
Wildlife Guild, the only one
he knows of in the county.
Wilson Snowden heads out to set decoys on Currituck Sound.
International Migratory Game Bird Treaty.
In 1918, Congress voted its provisions into
law.
The nation's remaining game markets
pulled all birds from their public stalls. The
era of market hunting for waterfowl was
over for all but poachers and unscrupulous
dealers. Any ducks sold in the United States
had to be raised on waterfowl farms and
harvested by means other than shooting,
under permit from the U.S. Department of
Agriculture.
L
I ^ate one afternoon, the day after
I meet Saunders in Chesapeake, I drive
through the village of Currituck on the
western shore of the sound, past the Knotts
Island ferry, crowded with school buses, and
park in front of the tiny brick Currituck
County jail, built around 1820. Across the
street, warm golden light streams through
the windows of the W.H. Snowden store.
Wilson Snowden closed the store in
1986, 97 years after it opened in the vibrant
county seat. The original headboard
counters remain, as do ornately bracketed
wooden shelves, now chockablock with old
wooden decoys, miscellaneous tools and a
few dusty store ledgers that date back to the
first years of the century.
Wilson and Barbara Snowden are
keepers of Currituck history. She is a
schoolteacher and Currituck County
historian, and he is a businessman, farmer,
longtime volunteer fire department chief
and boat restorer. As twilight fades, we
ferret through the store's ledgers, searching
for references to the old market hunting
trade. We find notations of shot and powder
bought and sold, but nothing that we can
point to as tactile evidence of Currituck's
defining era. In a back room, Barbara
Snowden shows me a large black stain on a
wall, where for decades you could see
where some old storekeeper had written the
price paid for ducks and geese. A few years
ago, a can of grapefruit juice leaked over the
figures, obscuring the numbers. Barbara
Snowden' s heart sank.
Not much remains of those days.
Saunders still has his daddy's 12-gauge
shotgun and his granddaddy's old 10-gauge
gun, with its Damascus steel barrels. The
hand-cut checkering on the stock is nearly
worn smooth. There are a few old battery
weights and iron decoys around, but of all
the gunning batteries used in Currituck
Sound, only a few are known to exist.
"They just let 'em go to pieces," Wilson
Snowden explains, "somewhere out there
in the marsh, like you would an old boat."
Gone, too, are many of the old
landings and wharves where generations of
Currituckians labored, shipping out fish
and fowl and farm harvests. In Poplar
Branch, the rotted and ramshackle wharves
were burned April 23, 1969, by the Lower
Currituck Fire Department at the request of
the N.C Wildlife Resources Commission.
A public boat ramp was installed as locals
lamented the loss of another piece of the
past. "This is the date of the end of the
'Good Old Days in Currituck County,'"
resident Seward Parker wrote to a local
newspaper.
Now it takes great effort to uncover
even the tiniest remnant of Currituck's
market hunting era. "People just can't
imagine how it was back in those days,"
Saunders says, and for the briefest moment
he holds his hands very still. "The average
person just don't know." □
COASTWATCH 13
Blackbeard's
Flagship?
Searching a Shipwreck for Clues
W
T Theth
By Julie Ann Powers
where the ship put into port. According to a
recently rediscovered description of
Concorde's capture, its officers were robbed
of gold dust when Blackbeard's band seized
the Caribbean-bound slave vessel in 1717.
Concorde was overtaken off the coast of St.
Vincent in the eastern Caribbean, as it
traveled between Senegal and Martinique.
"We haven't found Blackbeard's
treasure by any means," Crow says of the
shiny bits. "But it is an important clue to
what may have been on this particular ship."
' hether a submerged
shipwreck near Beaufort Inlet was once a
vessel commanded by the infamous pirate
Blackbeard is still a secret known only to
the sea.
But a convincing picture of an 1 8th-
century pirate ship has emerged with the
gold dust, broken bottles and cannons
brought up from the shell-encrusted mound.
And tantalizing historical parallels
prompt officials to stop just short of saying
for certain the Queen Anne 's Revenge has
been found. The flagship of Blackbeard's
fearsome fleet was last seen sinking in the
inlet after running aground in June 1718.
Jeffrey Crow, N.C. Division of
Archives and History director, says divers
have yet to find definitive evidence — "a
smoking blunderbuss" — to prove the
ship's identity.
"But we have found plenty of shot to
load that blunderbuss," he says.
Lead shot is among hundreds of
artifacts brought up in 500 hours of diving
last fall. It was the second major effort to
map the site and recover items since the
wreck was discovered Nov. 21 , 1996, in
about 20 feet of water.
A few gold flecks, pewter dishes, a
syringe, navigational instruments, onion-
shaped wine bottles, a clay pipe and barrel
hoops are also products of the latest dive. A
bronze bell, a brass blunderbuss barrel,
cannons and cannon balls, a sounding
weight, broken bottles and ballast stones
were brought up in previous dives.
Researchers still hope to find indisput-
able proof the ship is what they think it is
— ideally something engraved Queen
Crewmates wrestle with a
Jim Bounds, c
Anne 's Revenge or Concorde — the ship's
name before Blackbeard captured it. Or
maybe Edward Teach or Thatch, the
bewhiskered pirate's aliases. Lacking that,
they are analyzing each artifact for dates or
characteristics that might tell about the ship
that carried them nearly three centuries ago.
The gold dust — weighing less than
two paper clips — is a valuable find, though
it's unlikely to signal a treasure trove awaits
underwater. Blackbeard probably loaded his
loot onto his other vessels before Queen
Anne's Revenge succumbed to the waves.
If chemical analysis reveals where the
gold originated, however, it might also tell
CANNON RETRIEVED FROM THE WRECK.
wrtesy of The News & Observer
Blackbeard had been a privateer
preying on French ships during Queen
Anne's War before going into pirating for
himself. He renamed his prize Queen
Anne's Revenge.
The flagship was among four ships in
Blackbeard's force, which at times included
300 or more men. The ruthless brigands
attacked mariners from New England to the
Caribbean. Blackbeard was killed in a gory
battle at Ocracoke a few months after the
grounding.
The ballast stones from the wreck, used
to keep the ship upright, are less scintillating
than gold dust but could prove as important.
14 SPRING 1999
The rocks are a volcanic variety found in the
Caribbean and in France. A Caribbean
identity wouldn't add anything conclusive to
the story. But if analysis shows minerals
unique to Nantes, France, where the
Concorde first floated, the ballast could
point to Blackbeard.
"If we do identify them as being
French in origin, that would be an important
clue as well," says Crow.
While awaiting results of such studies
and combing archives for more overlooked
we'd expect to find Queen Anne 's Re-
venge" Crow says.
A pewter syringe brought up last fall
could be the renowned pirate's mark.
Blackbeard had blockaded Charleston's
port for a week before heading up the coast
toward Beaufort.
"One of the things he was trying to
secure was medical supplies for his crew,"
Crow says. Some accounts say syphilis was
widespread among the men.
A pair of chart dividers, also brought
Transfer of the cannon requires patience and precision.
uriesy of The News & Observer
records, experts contend everything they
know so far supports the theory the wreck is
what's left of Queen Anne 's Revenge. And
nothing contradicts it. All items identified so
far predate the 1 7 1 8 sinking.
The bronze bell, one of the first items
brought to the surface, is inscribed with the
date 1709, and the name IHS Maria.
Historians theorize the foot-tall bell was
taken from a captured vessel or a plundered
port town. Pewter dishes made by London
pewterer George Hammond date to the early
1700s. Two onion-shaped English wine
bottles are circa 1714.
"That puts us precisely in the period
up in 1998, is identical to the navigational
tool in use today. Others instruments
recovered are not so recognizable.
"We aren't altogether sure what they
are," Crow says. "Some probably have to
do with navigation." Many items might
have been common aboard any ship of the
times, Crow cautions.
"We can't say that these were
Blackbeard' s," Crow says. "But they give
us important evidence we hope to develop
further."
Historians also are studying what is left
underwater and its positioning. The
compact debris field indicates the ship sank
steadily, as one aground would do, rather
than tearing apart in a storm. The smallest
of three anchors, set 400 feet south of the
site, suggests the long-ago sailors tried to
kedge off the sandbar.
The anchors are large enough to
eliminate the possibility that the wreck is
Adventure, Blackbeard' s smaller sloop
that sank at the same time, possibly while
assisting Queen Anne 's Re\>enge. Adven-
ture has not been found.
Hurricane Bonnie in August 1998
reburied some of the wreck, but it also
exposed a 27-by-8-foot section of hull. The
timber is perfectly preserved by decades in
the sand.
"You can see the grain work. You can
see the little wooden pegs," says Mark
Wilde-Ramsey of the N.C. Underwater
Archeology Unit, who led the 1998 dive
project.
The wood could fill in several blanks
in the shipwreck's story. It will be analyzed
and carbon-dated, and the hull shape will
be studied for signs the holds were
designed for human cargo. The 90-foot
Concorde was built of white oak in about
1713 as a slave ship, records say. The
three-masted ship had a carrying capacity
of 200 tons, a 25-foot beam and a draft of
121/2 feet. As Queen Anne 's Revenge, it
accommodated 125 to 150 pirates.
Divers have counted 1 8 cannons so
far in the jumbled mass. Their number and
varying size are strong testimony the wreck
was Blackbeard' s flagship. Queen Anne's
Revenge was armed with 40 of the big
cast-iron guns. Three have been brought up
for conservation.
'It almost seems like anywhere you
go out there and dig, you find cannons,"
says Richard Lawrence, head of the
underwater archeology unit. Merchant
ships of the period probably carried fewer,
smaller cannons, experts say, and a naval
vessel's firepower would have been more
uniform in size.
Smaller armament also points to
pirates. Lead shot, found in large quanti-
ties, ranges in caliber from the size of a BB
to the diameter of a dime.
"These could be used in pistols,
Continued
COASTWATCH 15
muskets, blunderbusses or even put into
bags and fired out of a cannon," Lawrence
says. The latter is described as the 1 8th-
century version of the Molatov cocktail.
"Pirates were interested in antiper-
sonnel-type weaponry," he says. "They
wanted to cause the crew to surrender with
as little damage as possible."
The closely guarded site is about a
mile from Fort Macon's shoreline and
1 ,200 yards from what is now the inlet's
main channel. Geologists say strong
currents and shifting sand have covered
and uncovered the upper portion of the
wreck many times over the centuries.
Intersal Inc., a Boca Raton, Fla.,
treasure-hunting company, found the
wreck. The Tar Heel coastline is known to
have claimed hundreds of ships, and
Intersal initially was hunting a gold-laden
Spanish packet that sank in 1750.
The company began looking for
Queen Anne 's Revenge in 1 988, after
reportedly uncovering an eyewitness
account of the sinking in a London archive.
North Carolina law dictates that the
wreck belongs to the state. Intersal has
formed a nonprofit arm to work with North
Carolina. Mike Daniel, who found the
wreck and now heads the nonprofit group,
says the partnership is unusual in the
treasure-hunting industry, but Intersal
wants the artifacts kept together. Objects
from most famous shipwrecks have been
split up and sold, he says.
"This is probably the most important
shipwreck in the world, in my opinion,
because of the history that surrounds it," he
says. Intersal hopes to recoup $300,000 in
expenses by selling the story of the find
and possibly artifact reproductions.
When the discovery was announced
in 1997, coastal communities such as Bath,
Hatteras village, Beaufort and Ocracoke
began feuding over which should get the
shipwreck goods as a tourist draw.
State officials say the N.C. Maritime
Museum in Beaufort is the most likely
repository, but it will be years before any
major display is ready. In the meantime,
the bell, the blunderbuss barrel and other
cleaned artifacts periodically circulate the
state in a traveling exhibit.
Historians and conservationists work to classify and clean the wreck's bounty.
Jim Bounds, courtesy ft/The News & Observer
The cleaned artifacts circulate throughout North Carolina,
Much to the delight of pirate fanciers.
Candict Cusic. courtesy n/The News & Observer
16 SPRING 1999
The majority of the 350 items brought
to the surface are under conservation at the
underwater archeology lab in Kure Beach
and the new Gallants Channel lab in
Beaufort, which was remodeled from an
abandoned scallop house on property
acquired by the Friends of the N.C.
Maritime Museum in 1996.
Bringing up the entire wreck, as
researchers dream of doing, will cost
millions and take at least five years;
conservation even longer. If, that is,
facilities and funds materialize.
Museum supporters want to build a
16,000-square-foot conservation lab in
Beaufort, described by the Friends
president as a "top-grade" operation.
"We're talking about a multimillion-
dollar facility," says Grayden Paul Jr.
The 1997 and 1998 dives were paid
for with $450,000 in state money and
$50,000 in local funds. Officials say the
cost of in-kind contributions — state
facilities, expertise, vessels and equipment
— is impossible to calculate.
The next dive is tentatively scheduled
for fall, when water conditions are optimal.
Even if the shipwreck turns out to be a
vessel less renowned than Queen Anne's
Revenge, historians say the find neverthe-
less adds new chapters to nautical
knowledge.
The worldwide attention to the wreck
causes some consternation about the
glorification of pirates, who were akin to
modem-day hijackers and terrorists.
"They certainly weren't admirable
people," says Betty Ray McCain, secretary
of the North Carolina Department of
Cultural Resources.
But, she says, elementary school
teachers assuage her concerns.
"They tell me, 'We've tried every-
thing on the face of the Earth to get kids
interested in history,'" she says. "'And
you' ve finally done it. " ' n
The shipwreck has a state-maintained
Web site: http://web.dcr.state.nc.us/
blackbeardhtm.
lackbeard: The Man and the Myth
By Julie Ann Powers
respite a fierce reputa-
tion that has survived nearly three
centuries, Blackbeard wouldn't be
called a successful pirate. Those were
rich men who died a quiet death at an
old age.
But Blackbeard certainly was
notorious.
He was bom Edward
Drummond around 1680 in
England, according to history books.
He assumed the surname Teach, also
spelled Thatch, Tache or Tatch, as a
pirate. His more well-known
nickname came from his dark, bushy
whiskers.
Legend says that Blackbeard, a
big man with a formidable counte-
nance, used his beard to heighten any
pirate's biggest weapon — the ability
to engender fear. Before battle, he
supposedly braided his whiskers into
pigtails and tucked slow-burning
matches amongst them or behind his
ears, sending curls of smoke around
his face.
Blackbeard was always armed
with an array of daggers, swords and
loaded pistols, though some historians say
there's no evidence he killed anyone until
the day of his own death.
His nautical bad-guy career began
during Queen Anne's War, as a privateer
sailing out of Jamaica to attack French
merchant ships.
After the war ended in 1 7 1 3,
Blackbeard crewed for another pirate in the
Bahamas. He captured the French slaver,
Concorde, in 1717. When he was
rewarded with its command, he renamed it
Queen Anne's Revenge.
At its largest, his force included four
ships and 300 or more men. The fleet
assaulted mariners from the Caribbean to
New England. North Carolina's coast
offered several hideouts from colonial and
British authorities. An anchorage at
Ocracoke is still called Teach' s Hole. Bath
was another Blackbeard haunt.
North Carolina's Gov. Charles Eden
reportedly shrugged at pirate activity and
possibly shared in Blackbeard' s booty.
Eden pardoned the pirate in June 1718.
Blackbeard supposedly was semi-
retired in November 1718 when he met his
end at Ocracoke. In fact, some historians
theorize the losses of Queen Anne 's
Revenge and a smaller sloop,
Adventure, in June 1718, were
intentional. Grounding the vessels in
Beaufort Inlet might have been the
pirate's way of "downsizing" his
business.
Pirate attacks off the colonial
coast continued, however, and
Virginia's Gov. Alexander
Spotswood blamed Blackbeard. Not
so forgiving as Eden, he put a price on
Blackbeard' s head and urged the
British military, the Virginia Assem-
bly and Eden's opponents to help
capture him.
Blackbeard was tricked into
battle by Lt. Robert Maynard off
Ocracoke Nov. 22, 1718, on a British
sloop. According to legend, the pirate
fought on even after being shot,
stabbed and slashed across the throat,
until he died while cocking a pistol.
It was the custom of the times to
display dead pirates as a deterrent to
the occupation. Blackbeard' s severed
head was hung from the bowsprit of
Maynard' s ship. □
JL.iiln_ ...m ll.tlj.UJ
COASTWATCH 17
Patience Rays Off:
RelJm
^ of the
Chowan
ver
ives
ope
rthe
euse
By Barbara A. Doll and
Renee Wolcott Shannon
T
Ihesi
Anabaena, a microscopic blue-green algae
of the kind that plagued the Chowan River
Ihese days, the Neuse River
dominates media coverage of water quality
issues. Headlines scream about Pfiesteria
piscicida, excessive nutrients and fish kills.
Mention of the Chowan River is pretty
infrequent, even among water quality
professionals. But the Chowan River is
where North Carolina began its fight
against excess nutrient pollution.
The Chowan River begins in south-
eastern Virginia at the confluence of the
Nottaway and Blackwater rivers. Three-
quarters of its 4,890-square-mile drainage
area lie in Virginia. The river flows south-
east to Edenton, where it pours more than 1
trillion gallons of fresh water into
Albemarle Sound every year.
But in the 1970s, severe algal blooms,
fish kills and fish disease in the Chowan
River catalyzed local volunteer efforts and
landmark research and regulatory action in
North Carolina. The state passed its first
laws for controlling the discharge of
nutrients in an attempt to curtail the envi-
ronmental damage. In May 1979, the
Environmental Management Commission
established the Nutrient Sensitive Water
(NSW) supplemental-use classification to
place nutrient limits on wastewater plant
discharges to rivers. The Chowan River
was the first river to receive this supple-
mental classification.
Nutrients are essential to river and
coastal estuarine ecosystems; they feed the
growth of phytoplankton, forming the base
of the food chain. But in excess they can
18 SPRING 1999
The Arrowhead Club boat ramp shows the beauty of the Chowan River today.
cause unmanageable growth of algae and
other aquatic plants that rob the water of
oxygen. The lack of oxygen may lead to
fish kills, and fish disease often increases
as a result of environmental stress.
Though runoff contributes more than
70 percent of the nutrients polluting the
water in both the Neuse and Chowan river
basins, the rivers' watersheds are very
different in terms of land use and develop-
ment. The Neuse River basin contains one
of the state's largest metropolitan areas and
experiences high population growth. By
contrast, the Chowan River basin contains
small towns like Murfreesboro, Ahoskie
and Rich Square. Overall growth declined
by 1 percent in the North Carolina portion
of the river basin between 1970 and 1990.
A Dying River
The problem with nutrients in the
Chowan surfaced in the early 1970s. The
most severe blooms of blue-green algae
were reported in the lower portions of the
river in 1972 and 1978, when warm, dry
summers followed high spring flows. Fish
kills and a high incidence of red sore
disease in fish also indicated water quality
problems in the river.
The 1972 bloom concentrated near
Colerain and lasted from June to August.
Conditions were so severe that one news-
paper described the bloom as "gangrenous
velvet blanketing the river." By October,
the Winston-Salem Journal declared the
river dead.
Fishers and riverside residents were
especially outraged at the situation. Shore-
line residents complained that the rotting
algae smelled bad and that their bathing
suits were stained green. Volunteer groups
formed to raise awareness of the problem
and to search for solutions.
By the late 1970s, the massive
growths had expanded to cover more than
a 20-mile stretch of the river, from Holiday
Island to below Edenton. Town officials
complained in 1978 that the water turned
green in July and remained that way until
December, putting a damper on tourism.
During several summer kills, it seemed
possible to walk across the dead bass and
catfish on the surface of the river.
Fishers feared for their livelihood,
C o n t i n u e d
COASTWATCH 19
complaining that catches had declined and
that red sore disease was on the rise. Many
claimed that they had not seen red sores on
fish until the early 1970s, when the algal
blooms began. Surveys revealed red sore
outbreaks from the Chowan River to the
Scuppemong River, with the highest
incidence in the Chowan.
In 1976, an outbreak of the disease
killed about 95 percent of the Albemarle
Sound's white perch population. Research-
ers determined that the sores were caused
by Aeromonas hydrophila, a bacteria that
flourishes in polluted water. They sus-
pected that environmental stress from the
declining water quality in the Chowan
River was contributing to the outbreaks.
The only way to fight the disease was to
improve water quality.
A fertilizer plant near Tunis was
implicated as a primary source of nutrients
contributing to the algal bloom problem in
the Chowan River. As many as 4,000
pounds of nitrogen were being discharged
from the plant into the river each day.
Research also strongly implicated
farming practices and changes in drainage
and forest cover as contributors to the
problem. Researchers from the University
of North Carolina at Chapel Hill noted that
though there had been a decrease in
farmland in the river basin since 1950, the
yields for all major crops had risen due to
mechanization and increased fertilizer
usage. This study also documented that 67
percent of the North Carolina farmland in
the Chowan River had been ditched for
drainage to the river, compared to only 6
percent of Virginia farmland. In addition,
there was a 30 percent decrease in wet-
lands forested with oak, gum and cypress
in the North Carolina portion of the basin
between 1964 and 1974.
These changes in land use are signifi-
cant to nutrient loading. Increased fertilizer
use creates a greater potential for excess
nutrient runoff . Ditching and draining of
cropland decreases the travel time of water
moving from a field to a nearby creek or
stream, thus reducing the time for microbes
in the soil to break down excess nutrients.
Research has shown that swamp forests in
the Chowan River basin can remove 83
percent of the nitrogen and 5 1 percent of
the phosphorus from streams that pass
through them. The loss of these habitats
means greater release of nutrients into
waterways.
The Chowan, Pasquotank and
Roanoke are the primary rivers that feed the
Albemarle Sound. The Albemarle is
considered a lagoonal estuary because it is
very shallow and has a slow flushing rate
since the Outer Banks restrict the water's
exchange with the ocean. The Albemarle
Sound is only about 20 feet deep at its
center. As a result, the lower portions of the
rivers and the sound they drain into have a
relatively small volume and are sensitive to
nutrient loading.
Dedicated Volunteers
When retired Navy Capt. Alfred
Howard moved to Edenton in 1974, he
quickly realized that something was wrong
with the river. He had fallen in love with the
Chowan in 1967, while on leave from his
ship in Norfolk, Va. On a drive along the
coast, he stopped in Edenton, saw that there
were lots for sale along the river and bought
one the same afternoon. Now, after buying
two more lots, he has 165 feet of waterfront
property.
But in 1974 and 1975, the river was in
"pretty bad shape," Howard says. "It stunk
like an open sore." When the algal blooms
were thriving, the surface of the water was a
thick green sludge that rarely cleared.
"There were days when the wind blew in
the right direction and blew it to the other
20 SPRING 1999
side of the river," Howard says, and then
people would go in swimming. "At the blue
stage, it would stain swimsuits. It left green
and blue collars on the piers and pound net
stakes, and a blue smear along the beach
where it met the water."
Homeowners in the Arrowhead
community, where Howard lives, were
furious. "Everybody was upset, and some-
body had to take the lead," Howard says. So
he did.
With a group of friends from the
Arrowhead Property Owners Association,
Howard signed on with the regional Stream
Watch program. Now incorporated into the
N.C. Department of Environment and
Natural Resources (DENR), Stream Watch
helps local residents to "adopt" a waterway
and act on its behalf. The new volunteers
gathered information about the water
Hans Paerl, a Sea Grant researcher and
champion of water quality improvement on the Chowan
quality, ecology and history of the
Chowan, and they searched for industries
and other facilities contributing to the
pollution of the river. With the help of a
fisheries grant from the Z. Smith Reynolds
Foundation, the Arrowhead group also
purchased a water-quality test kit and
began monitoring the river's dissolved
oxygen levels, pH, turbidity, salinity and
temperature.
Armed with new information, the
volunteers began publicizing the river's
plight and encouraging other residents to
get involved. Residents from the Arrow-
head community traveled up and down the
river, getting the word out to as many
people as they could. "We attended
women's clubs and Lions clubs, letting
them know what was going on and how to
help," Howard says.
Group
members also
attended
public hear-
ings for
National
Pollutant
Discharge
Elimination
System
(NPDES)
permits, which
industries and
treatment
plants must
maintain in
order to
discharge
wastewater. If
the Arrowhead
group believed
that businesses
were not
abiding by the
regulations
required to
maintain the
permit, they
spoke up
about it at the
hearings.
Patrick Stanforth, director of the
Albemarle-Pamlico Citizens Water Quality
Monitoring Program between 1997 and
1998, has high praise for Howard. When
the monitoring program was established in
the late 1980s, Howard's group immedi-
ately joined. "He's as grassroots as they
get," Stanforth says. "He's one of the
cornerstones of it being a productive
program."
The Albemarle-Pamlico Citizens
Water Quality Monitoring Program
receives funding through the Environmen-
tal Protection Agency's Albemarle-
Pamlico Estuarine Study (APES). Citizens'
groups that work with the program receive
water-quality monitoring kits and test the
water every Tuesday. The data are checked
for accuracy at East Carolina University
and then compiled into a baseline data set
for the river.
Recently, the program had enough
money to purchase a Hatch 2000 monitor-
ing kit, which measures nitrogen and
phosphorus levels. It's a more expensive
and sophisticated instrument than the usual
test kits, and the Arrowhead group was
selected to use it. "With Captain Al there,
we know the Chowan is in good hands,"
says Stanforth. "I couldn't pick a better
advocate for the river."
A Decade of Research
Scientists also rallied to defend the
river.
"I think the Chowan has been a real
success story," says Hans Paerl, a Sea
Grant researcher at the University of North
Carolina at Chapel Hill. "We hear horror
stories about science being slow to respond
to problems — that scientists sit in the
ivory tower without solutions to practical
problems. But in the 1980s, research
supported by Sea Grant and the Water
Resources Research Institute provided
some timely answers and nutrient-reduc-
tion strategies."
In conjunction with the institute,
North Carolina Sea Grant focused exten-
sive research efforts on river and estuarine
processes. Scientists studied flow dynam-
Continued
COASTWATCH 21
ics, nutrient loading and algal
response in major coastal river
systems. Their research located
areas where nutrients were
deposited and confirmed that
those areas were prone to algal
blooms.
Through more than a
decade of work, researchers were
able to identify limiting nutrients
over seasonal, spatial and climate
changes, and they characterized
the dominant algal communities
during various seasons and
nutrient loading patterns.
Charles Daniel, a researcher
from the U.S. Geological Survey,
developed a model to describe
the water flow in the Chowan
River. Water movement patterns
affect algal growth and dispersal.
The model verified that both lunar and
wind tides are present in the Chowan, but
that the wind tides are far more significant.
During low flows, however, lunar tides can
influence the river as far north as the
Blackwater River, which is six miles north
of Franklin, Va.
Augustus Witherspoon, a North
Carolina State University researcher,
showed that the river could be subdivided
into two sections. The upper river had
nutrient concentrations great enough to
support relatively high algal growth, but
the water flow there was too fast to allow
for excessive phytoplankton growth.
By contrast, the slow-moving lower
river acted more like a lake. This allowed
for more interaction between algae and
nutrients, resulting in high algal growth.
Blue-green algae that formed surface
blooms dominated the species composition
of the lower river, as is common in nutri-
ent-enriched freshwater areas.
Other work focused solely on nutri-
ents and algal growth. John Hobbie,
currently of the Marine Biological Labora-
tory in Woods Hole, Mass., and Don
Stanley, now at East Carolina University,
found that high rates of nitrogen loading
prompted algal blooms. Nitrogen and
phosphorus are the key nutrients that
In 1 983, researchers used experimental enclosures
to examine the effect of nutrient additions in the Chowan.
support algal growth in aquatic systems.
Often there is plenty of one nutrient but not
enough of the other. The lacking nutrient is
considered the limiting nutrient because it
controls the productivity that can take place.
In freshwater systems, phosphorus is
usually the limiting nutrient. In estuarine
systems, on the other hand, nitrogen gener-
ally controls algal production. In the lower
Chowan, however, Hobbie and Stanley
found that nitrogen from decomposing
organic matter in the sediments functioned
as the limiting nutrient for algal growth
mainly during the summer instead of year-
round.
Later studies by Ed Kuenzler, a UNC-
Chapel Hill researcher, found that both
phosphorus and nitrogen simultaneously
limited total algal growth in most experi-
ments, but that phosphorus was the most
critical limiting nutrient to certain species of
blue-green algae that dominated blooms in
freshwater segments of the lower Chowan
River.
Paerl confirmed these findings and
showed that high nitrogen inputs during the
spring created a potential for early blooms
of species other than blue-green algae. His
work also showed that once these blooms
died and sank to the bottom of the river,
their decomposition depleted oxygen levels.
Phosphorus was then released in this
anaerobic (oxygen-free) environment and
stimulated blue-green algae blooms later in
the summer.
From this decade of research, scientists
were able to conclude that controls of both
nitrogen and phosphorus were necessary to
reduce the frequency and magnitude of algal
blooms in the river. Reducing the amount of
nutrients flowing into the river would also
reduce the concentration of chlorophyll-a, a
plant pigment used to measure phytoplank-
ton growth. Witherspoon and Roger Pearce,
his graduate student provided specific
guidelines for reducing these nutrients.
Two Decades of
Management
The fertilizer plant in Tunis stopped
discharging nitrogen into the river in 1972,
and the next few years saw a marked
reduction in algal blooms. In 1976, how-
ever, small pulse blooms appeared, and in
1978, severe blooms recurred. State regula-
tors verified that nutrients continued to seep
from storage lagoons at the fertilizer plant.
In addition, the United Piece
Dyeworks plant near Colerain and the
Union Camp pulp and paper facility in
Franklin, Va., were identified as significant
point sources of nutrients in the basin. North
22 SPRING 1999
Carolina and Virginia cooperated to reduce
the pollutant load from Union Camp, and
the paper plant began storing its waste for
the eight months of the year when river flow
is low, discharging only between December
and March.
In 1979, implementation of the Nutri-
ent Sensitive Water classification placed
nutrient limits on wastewater treatment
plants discharging to the river. As a result,
major municipalities began spraying their
discharges onto land as a form of irrigation.
This was the only means of reaching the
strict nutrient limits of 3 parts per million
(ppm) total nitrogen and 1 ppm phosphorus.
With land available and reasonably afford-
able to most of the major municipalities that
bordered the river, this was a feasible
solution. Land application of wastewater
had previously been tried only in experi-
mental demonstration projects in North
Carolina.
Land application of wastewater
enables microbial communities in the soil to
break down and transform nutrients and
other pollutants before they reach the river.
It is difficult to quantify the nutrient reduc-
tion that resulted from this change, but
estimates show that the contribution from
municipal sources in the North Carolina
portion of the basin are down from about 20
percent of the total load to around 1 percent.
Despite aggressive measures to deal
with point source pollution, regulators soon
realized that more effort was needed to
solve the problem. With forests, wetlands
and agriculture comprising the primary land
uses in the river basin, and agricultural
runoff and animal waste contributing an
estimated 80 percent of the total nitrogen
and phosphorus flowing to the river,
nonpoint sources of pollution had to be
reckoned with in order to solve the bloom
problem.
In 1982, the N.C. Department of
Natural Resources and Community Devel-
opment (now the N.C. Department of
Environment and Natural Resources)
developed the Chowan/Albemarle Action
Plan and the Chowan River Water Quality
Management Plan. The Chowan River plan
called for a 30 to 40 percent reduction in
phosphorus and a 15 to 20 percent reduc-
tion in nitrogen. The plan included limits on
both nonpoint and point sources of pollu-
tion.
Agricultural Best Management Prac-
tices (BMPs) became an important compo-
nent of the water quality improvement plans
for the Chowan River. Farmers were asked
to voluntarily establish BMPs to reduce
erosion and nutrient loading from their
crops and animal facilities. A three-year
study concluded that farmers in the basin
needed education and technical assistance
because they had not adjusted the applica-
tion rates of fertilizer to take into account
the nutrient-rich animal waste they were
also applying to their crops.
In 1985, with funding from the North
Carolina legislature, the Agricultural Cost
Share Program was implemented in the
Chowan River basin. The program was
designed to provide technical and financial
assistance to farmers who implemented
BMPs. The BMPs were intended to reduce
erosion, properly manage and improve land
application of animal wastes, improve
fertilizer application in relation to crop
needs to reduce excess nutrient loading, and
ensure proper handling and disposal of
pesticides and reduce their use.
Farmers began testing their soil, using
conservation tillage, splitting applications of
fertilizer and establishing grass in water-
ways and field borders to prevent erosion.
In some cases, hogs had to be removed
from swamps, but most animal farmers
only needed better storage and training in
the proper land application of animal waste.
Drainage and irrigation systems also were
improved throughout the basin to reduce
subsurface movement of nitrogen to surface
waters.
Over a five-year period, the state made
809 agreements with farmers in the
Chowan River basin to address nonpoint
source problems on 63,655 acres of land.
An estimated 123,244 tons of soil erosion
has been prevented annually as a result.
Forty-eight million gallons of animal waste
have been applied to crops rather than
stockpiled in feedlots or overflowing
lagoons.
Documenting Success
In 1990, regulators began compiling the
figures on the nutrient loads and chlorophyll-
a levels in the river since the Chowan River
plan was put into effect in 1982. They found
substantial reductions in nutrient loads,
achieved primarily through eliminating
wastewater treatment plant discharges,
closing the Tunis fertilizer plant and imple-
menting the agricultural BMPs. Calculations
revealed that phosphorus had been reduced
by 29 percent and nitrogen by 22 percent.
Consistent monitoring in the river at
several stations revealed seasonal fluctua-
tions in levels of phytoplankton growth
through the mid-1980s, accompanied by a
downward trend in growth from the 1980s to
the present. Near Colerain and Edenton, the
areas previously most plagued by algal
blooms, summer chlorophyll levels remained
high until 1991 but have since dropped
significantly.
Today, the Chowan River is much
healthier than it was in the 1970s. There has
been a notable decrease in the duration and
frequency of algal blooms. Tourism thrives
in Edenton. Though overfishing threatens the
river herring industry, striped bass and white
perch fisheries have improved steadily since
the early 1980s.
Volunteers from the Arrowhead Prop-
erty Owners Association continue to monitor
the water and collect data but they are much
happier with the river's health. "This last
summer was beautiful," says Howard.
'There was some spotty cover in spring but
no penetration into the water column."
Scientists and regulators are also
pleased with their progress. "The results
speak for themselves," says Paerl, the UNC-
CH researcher. The Chowan River is a case
where "science translated into management
and policy."
With the implementation of the Neuse
River Nutrient Reduction Rules in August
1997, the Neuse River should also begin the
journey to improved health. The Neuse
River basin could take more than 20 years to
flush out the nutrients already stored in its
soils and sediments, but the Chowan's
rebirth teaches patience and hope. Water
quality improvement takes time. □
COASTWATCH 23
SEA
SCIENCE
On the Trail of Giants:
Bluefin Tuna Research Expands to Cape Lookout
By Katie Mosher • Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
director of the Duke University Marine Lab, angles for a giant tuna.
Michael Orbach,
iglers were reeling in
bluefin tuna weighing up to 600 pounds
off Cape Lookout this winter — but the
biggest catch of the season could be the
scientific data gathered on more than 100
of these giant fish.
Bluefin have been caught and
studied off Cape Hatteras for several
years, but for the first time researchers
based in Carteret County tagged bluefin
to gather data on migration patterns.
"We are looking at how bluefin tuna
in the western Atlantic waters relate to the
rest of the bluefin in the Atlantic Ocean,"
says Barbara Block of the Tuna Research
and Conservation Center on the Monterey
Peninsula in California. Block has led the
Tag-a-Giant bluefin research project in
North Carolina since 1996.
The bluefin are noted not only for
their size but also for their commercial
value. The meat can sell for $30 to $60 per
pound. "Bluefin tuna are the most lucrative
fish in the world today. A single fish can
sell for over $50,000," Block says.
The value of the bluefin goes beyond
the commercial dock. The arrival of
sportfishers is a great economic boon to
coastal communities. These anglers spend
money on housing, meals and charter
24 SPRING 1999
SEA
SCIENCE
services, even though
they often choose to
release the catch live.
An international
organization based in
Madrid, Spain, sets
landing quotas for
bluefin. The United
States has seen a
declining population of
the giant fish, which are
extremely popular in
Japanese food markets.
Some East Coast states
have commercial bluefin
fisheries, but North
Carolina is limited to a
recreational fishery, so
anglers who decide to
keep their bluefin cannot
sell it upon their return to
the dock.
In early 1998, North
Carolina Sea Grant
fisheries agent Jim Bahen
heard reports of large
bluefin near Cape
Lookout. Few of the giant
fish were caught that
season, says Bahen, who
has worked with both
Block and Eric Prince, a
National Marine
Fisheries Service
researcher. Bahen is on
the steering committee
for a catch-and-release
symposium in December
in Virginia Beach.
Bluefin, as well as
marlins and swordfish,
are considered pelagic fish because they are
at home in the open ocean. "They are the
top of the food chain," Bahen says.
In North Carolina, he adds, the fish
apparendy feed on gray trout and croaker
as well as the more traditional diet —
menhaden.
In late December 1998, the Tag-a-
Giant (TAG) program began looking for
In December, boats caught one or two giant tuna per day.
Researchers implant an archival tag in a giant tuna.
large bluefin off Cape Lookout. The
California-based team, which includes
Block and scientists from Stanford Univer-
sity and the Monterey Bay Aquarium,
worked with the Cape Lookout Sportfishing
Association (CLSFA) and the Duke
University Marine Laboratory in Beaufort.
The results were quite successful. The
two-week program was extended several
weeks as the weather
cooperated, and the
mature fish were biting.
"There were two hot
spots for the bluefin tuna
activity during TAG in
Carteret County. The first
was on the east side of
Cape Lookout Shoals
between the 1700 Rocks
and the D Wreck" says
Bill Hitchcock, president
of CLSFA and a member
of the North Carolina Sea
Grant Outreach Advisory
Board.
"The second area
was just 6.5 miles
southeast of Beaufort Inlet
in the shallow waters
around the Trawler
Buoy," he says.
A Cape Lookout
boat, trolling in areas 30 to
60 feet deep, would catch
one or two giants per day
in late December, but the
catch increased in January.
In past years, a boat
fishing for tuna in deeper
water off Hatteras could
catch up to 15 smaller,
juvenile bluefin per day by
"chumming," tossing
chunks of menhaden as
bait, Bahen says. In 1998
and early 1999, the bluefin
catch off Hatteras was
significantly lower.
Bluefin anglers brave
winter weather to meet the
challenge of reeling in the giant fish. "It is
something we have never seen here before.
There is a tremendous pull — that's the
thrill," Bahen says. Safety precautions
include strapping the fisher into a chair
during the catch.
On New Year's Eve, Ron Purser of
Newport caught a nearly 600-pound
bluefin while fishing aboard the Delta
Continued
COASTWATCH 25
SEA
SCIENCE
Dawn, a charter boat owned by Peter
Manual.
Crucial Data Gathered
Michael Orbach, Duke Marine Lab
director, also knows the thrill of the
catch firsthand. While assisting the
research team, he pulled in two giants,
including one at 410 pounds. But
Orbach says the excitement from
gathering research data on these
large fish of breeding age is even
greater.
The tagging effort is a cooperative
venture for the scientific and fishing
communities.
"This was an opportunity for the
fishers to gain a better knowledge of
these fish and for the scientists to learn
more about our waters," Hitchcock says.
When a fisher catches one of the
giants, the captain radios a surgical boat,
which carries the researchers. The
surgical boats include the Calcutta,
owned by Jim Bailey and operated by
Capt. John Jenkins; the Bullfrog, owned
by Capt. Bob Eakes; the Leslie Ann,
owned by Richard Whorly and
captained by Gary Stuve: and the
Raptor, owned by Jim Huddlestun and
captained by Peter B. Wright.
Once the fish is transferred to the
surgical boat, researchers implant an
archival tag that will determine move-
ment. The tag has an external sensor that
can measure depth, light and external
temperatures. When a tag is retrieved,
researchers download the data to
calculate the daily location of the fish
and its diving activity.
Though expensive, an archival tag
may provide data over several years,
thus offering detailed migration patterns
of western Atlantic bluefin tuna. North
Carolina fishers assist the research
efforts by paying for some of the
archival tags, which cost $1,500 each.
Most tags are paid for with National
Marine Fisheries funds and private
grants.
The researchers also track tuna by
Fishers are strapped in for safety.
using pop-off tags, which are designed
to stay on the fish for a preprogrammed
time. The tag has a built-in corrosion
point, which allows the tag to break off
and float to the surface, transmitting its
accumulated data to a satellite.
In 1996 and 1997, Block's team
recovered data from 35 of 37 satellite
tags. The scientists were able to track
tuna that moved up to 1 ,670 nautical
miles in 90 days. Some of these fish
crossed the line that separates eastern
and western management zones for the
international bluefin fishery.
Socioeconomic Benefits Noted
The biological data from tagging
programs are valuable. But catch-and-
release programs offer great economic
benefits to coastal communities even
after the biologists have completed their
projects.
Communities that encourage
anglers to release their catch will not see
their bluefin season hampered by
landing quotas, says Robert Ditton of
Texas A&M University, who studied
the economic impact of the bluefin
fishery in Hatteras.
In fact, Ditton' s research suggests
that charter captains charge more for
anglers who want to take home the catch
because they are detracting from the
long-term survival of the fish — and the
sustainability of a bluefin season.
Scientific tagging is only one aspect
of releasing fish. "Anglers will practice
catch-and-release because they are
intrinsically motivated," Ditton says.
"Catch-and-release is a conservation
statement."
North Carolina communities could
consider this a marketing strategy.
"Those who depend on the economic
benefits of the Hatteras fishery need to
make a greater effort to attract a new
market segment of bluefin tuna anglers,
namely those with more experience in
bluefin tuna fishing and an appreciation
for the catch-and-release experience
afforded uniquely in the Hatteras area,"
Ditton recommends.
In 1997, bluefin anglers spent more
than $3.6 million in Hatteras, Ditton' s
study shows. A detailed census of those
anglers showed 1 ,020 charter-boat and
370 private-boat tuna trips from mid-
January through late March. And, Ditton
points out, the 1997 season occurred with
a minimum of regional, statewide or
national publicity.
But the word about North Carolina
bluefin is getting out to a wider fishing
audience each year. "People are flying in
from all over the world," Bahen says. □
For information on the Cape
Lookout Tag-a-Giant program in winter
1999-2000, contact Bill Hitchcock of the
Cape Lookout Sportfishing Association at
800/251-1442 or check the group's Web
site at http://www.clsfa.com. For
information on the North Carolina
bluefin fishery, contact Jim Bahen, North
Carolina Sea Grant fisheries agent, at
910/256-2083.
On the Web, learn more about
Barbara Block's bluefin research at http:
//www. tunaresearch.org. To learn more
about Robert Ditton 's socioeconomic
study of the Hatteras bluefin fishery,
check http.VAutra. tamu. edu/rbaVtuna. htm.
26 SPRING 1999
BOOK
MARKET
I
Armchair Sailing
By Renee Wolcott Shannon
.n like a lion, out like a lamb:
March is unpredictable. Some days, the
sand is like ice, and the wind off the
Atlantic stings your cheeks red. Though
summer is just around the corner, you
can feel a long way from warm
weather and your next sail up the
sound. The slap of the waves, the
glaring sun, the steady hiss of water
along the hull. You miss the tug of
the tiller in your hand or the quick
response of the boat to the turning
wheel.
For those with the sailing
bug, boating is life itself, and the
long winter months are a tough
period of withdrawal. In this issue
of Coastwatch, I've collected
books that should help the last few
weeks speed by quickly and help you
prepare for your next boating season,
whether you dream of sailing around
the world or lazing away the summer
on a towel and watching the boats on
the bay.
• A Bride's Passage: Susan
Hathorn's Year Under Sail by
Catherine Petroski. 1997. Northeastern
University Press, 360 Huntington Ave.,
416 CP, Boston, MA 021 15. 304 pages.
Hardcover, $42.50. ISBN 1-55553-
298-5. Paperback, $15.95. ISBN 1-
55553-297-7.
History buffs will love this
painstakingly researched tale of a new
wife's 1855 ocean voyage. Susan
Hathorn had just married her sea-
captain husband when he whisked her
away, and she recorded the details of
their voyage in a yearlong diary. The
original document is in the Special
Collections Library at Duke University.
Portrait of Susan Hathorn, 1877,
from A Bride's Passage:
Susan Hathorn's Year Under Sail
by Catherine Petroski
You will admire Susan's bravery
and wry humor as she comes to grips
with life on a three-masted wooden
bark; she tackles bedbugs, rats and
pitching seas with equal aplomb.
Petroski knits Susan's diary
together with other documents of the
era to illuminate a fascinating life. In
her introduction, Petroski tells us that
Susan came from a farm family in
Maine and attended the new Mount
Holyoke Seminary; her husband, Jode
Hathorn, came from a line of prosperous
merchants and shipbuilders.
Susan had never been to sea
before Jode asked her to accompany
him to Cuba and England on a
trading voyage only a month after
they were married. Her ability to
adapt and work under all
conditions keeps her saga
fascinating to the end.
Petroski takes you through
the diary month by month,
quoting passages that display
Susan's Victorian sensibilities
and dry wit. Though Petroski' s
style is somewhat academic, she
shows real affection for her topic
and combines solid facts with a flair
for detail.
She doesn't hesitate to pass along
Susan's sense of humor in adversity:
"Had a regular 'bed bug slaughter' this
morning," reads one quoted passage.
"Found the things in the sofa — under
the buttons — a nest under each one.
What I shall do with the cock roaches
now, is a question of great moment with
me. They are fairly taking possession of
my quarters."
Susan is a woman of considerable
power for her time. She knits and sews
like any good Victorian wife, but she
also takes position readings at sea, tends
injured sailors, shops for her family and
keeps the books for the voyage. For
more than half the journey she is
pregnant, but she forges ahead without
complaint.
By the end of the book, you
appreciate what it might have been like
Continued
COASTWATCH 27
BOOK
MARKET
to be this extraordinary woman, traveling
the high seas a century and a half ago.
Illustrations and appendices help make a
firm connection to her life, and Petroski's
writing skillfully describes the social
customs, ships and navigational methods
of the time. I was sorry to read the last
pages and to wish Susan farewell.
• Henry the Sailor Cat by Mary
Calhoun, illustrated by Erick Ingraham.
1994. Mulberry Books. William Morrow
& Co., 1350 Avenue of the Americas,
New York, NY 10019. 38 pages.
Paperback, $4.95. ISBN 0-688-15846-3.
Younger readers and cat fans will
appreciate the gentle humor and high
adventure of Calhoun's Henry the Sailor
Cat, lavishly illustrated by Ingraham.
Henry, a daring Siamese, stows away on a
sailing lesson for "The Kid" and helps
save "The Man" when he falls overboard.
The suspenseful action provides a natural
way for parents to discuss boating safety
and the importance of listening to
directions.
Both the text and the illustrations
convey the joy — as well as the possible
dangers — of sailing. In Ingraham's
beautiful watercolors, we see the changing
moods of ocean weather, the deep
affection between a father and his son,
and the playful antics of dolphins and a
clever Siamese.
Ingraham seems well aware of the
necessity for boat safety, too: "The Man"
and "The Kid" are outfitted in smart red
and yellow life preservers, and Ingraham
dedicates his work "to all boating
enthusiasts who obey water safety rules."
Here is a book that both parents and kids
will applaud.
• I Don't Do Portholes by
Gladys Walker and Iris Lorimer,
illustrated by Peter Wells. 1986. Westcott
Cove Publishing Co., Box 130, Stamford,
CT 06904. 108 pages. Paperback, $9.95.
ISBN 0-9 18-752-06-X.
For those who actually brave the
waves, the
387 "Super
Boatkeeping
Tips"
collected in
this informa-
tive and enter-
taining book
could be a
lifesaver. The
authors speak
with authority as
longtime boaters,
and they've split
their tips into useful
categories like
"Carrying and
Stowing," "Outfitting
the Galley" and
"Boating with
Children." You'll get
helpful hints on ways to
save space, reduce waste
and make your boat safer
and more comfortable to
live in. A few examples:
• Tip 28: 'Two-inch
PVC tubing, cut into
appropriate lengths and
fastened securely to the
cabin overhead (ceiling) or stored
elsewhere, can be used for chart
storage."
• Tip 113: "Whenever possible
use a plastic bag instead of a mixing
bowl. Blend ingredients by kneading
them. It eliminates washing a bowl and
utensils."
• Tip 369: "Print step-by-step
instructions for using your radio and
tape them right to the set. You never
know who might have to make an
emergency call."
The book also offers quick recipes
and water-saving methods and suggests
products that are useful to have onboard.
Some of these hints are now outdated
("Boaters are hailing the introduction of
UHT milk ..."), but the products listed are
as helpful as ever. All the tips are
numbered and
indexed for easy reference.
The authors' humorous style,
combined with the illustrations of widely
known cartoonist (and fellow boat owner)
Wells, make the book a pleasure to read. If
you want to jump-start your boating season
by organizing supplies and planning ahead,
this book will be infinitely helpful. It even
has a checklist for all your boating needs,
from the bare necessities to bedding and
linens and emergency stores. / Don 't Do
Portholes deserves a place on any serious
boater's bookshelf.
• Seaports of the South: A
Journey by Louis D. Rubin Jr., with
photography by John F. Harrington.
1998. Longstreet Press, 2140 Newmarket
Parkway, Suite 122, Marietta, GA 30067.
268 pages. Hardcover, $25. ISBN
1-56352-499-6.
If the sheer size and huge horsepower
28 SPRING 1999
BOOK
MARKET
fa
of a tanker, cruise ship or container
ship get your engines throbbing, then this
could be the book for you. Rubin, who
achieved fame in North Carolina as founder
of Algonquin Books, leads readers on a tour
of 13 Southern seaports. Harrington, his
lifelong friend, provides colorful photo-
graphs of the enormous ships to which they
devote themselves.
A kind of oceangoing road trip, the
book is a succession of boat rides, restaurant
meals and tankers looming out of the mist
Rubin and Harrington manage to talk their
way onto tugboats in almost every port, and
Rubin takes delight in listing the lengths,
drafts, widths and horsepower of the vessels
they spot You'll learn much about the boats
and discover the complex international
flavor of deep-sea shipping — the Greek-
owned ships based in Liberia carrying
lumber from Mobile, Ala, to Norway under
the watchful eyes of a Filipino crew.
In the first glossy pages, you'll
accompany the self-described "elderly ship
fanciers" as they help dock ships at the
Wando Terminal in their hometown of
Charleston, S.C. In later chapters, you can
watch paper being loaded in Wilmington,
dodge a hurricane in New Orleans, catch a
helicopter ride to an offshore oil-pumping
station in Louisiana and tour a nuclear
submarine near Jacksonville, Fla. Along
the way, you'll learn how each seaport's
fortunes rose and fell over the course of
history.
Rubin's narrative also imparts local
color. Wilmington, for example, is famous
for its lumber trade, while Savannah, Ga,
is one of the world's biggest exporters of
kaolin, a fine white clay used in porcelain
and for coating paper.
Engineers made Corpus Christi,
Texas, a powerful shipping center by
dredging a canal and excavating a 3,000-
foot harbor for the city. In Houston they
had only to enlarge an existing bayou. Still,
water traffic there and in New Orleans is so
busy and complex that observation towers
and control rooms must be used to monitor
the ships.
In Pascagoula, Miss., the author tours
a National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration fisheries facility and learns
about botdenose dolphin research. Rubin
also describes the "ecological nightmare"
of Tampa Bay, Fla., which is slowly being
reversed through the Tampa Bay National
Estuary Program.
You will come away with a good
sense of the history and importance of each
of these cities and of the oceangoing traffic
that constantly shuttles into and out of
wharves and docks. The only flaw in this
remarkably informative book is some
shoddy editing. Typos abound, and one
chapter ends abruptly in midsentence,
never to be completed. I can't imagine that
Rubin, himself a famed editor, is very
happy with his publishers. □
COASTWATCH 29
PEOPLE
& PLACES
Saving Snails. . .
and other
steps toward
a healthy
planet
By Odile Fredericks
^spite the clutter in his office
at the N.C. Aquarium at Fort Fisher, Andy
Wood seems to know where everything is.
Reconstructed fossil bones compete for
attention with pieces of driftwood from the
beach outside, frog-crossing signs, stacks
of books and tanks of water where he's
creating habitats. A telescope lets him
keep a watchful eye on the ocean. From
his window, he monitors the loading of
alligators that he'll take to Florida tomor-
row.
Order exists amid the chaos, as in the
natural world. Education curator for the
aquarium, Wood is a lifelong environmen-
talist who works quietly to rectify the
damage he sees destroying the planet. His
penchant for stewarding the smallest of
creatures reveals his philosophy that
everything is interconnected.
"Unlike most people's perceptions,
the dominoes begin to fall with the little
teensy things that you don't see," says
Wood, who carries a beeper at all times so
he can be available to callers with
environmental concerns.
Andy Wood admires the magnificent rams-horn snail,
a species that may be confined to his backyard.
For Wood, activism is a way of life
that begins in his back yard. Six years ago,
when a friend in the U.S. Army Corps of
Engineers asked him to take in some
vulnerable snails, he agreed. Today, his
yard may be the breeding ground for the
last of the magnificent rams-horn snails.
No more than an inch and a half long, the
snails are on the state's endangered species
list and could be federally listed if Wood's
research pans out. A freshwater creature,
the snail is sensitive to changes in salinity.
"It's now possible that it is no longer
in the wild, which means the entire species
is in my back yard in captive propagation,"
he says.
Once thought extinct, the magnificent
rams-horn has been found in the wild in
only two locations, both in southeastern
North Carolina, says Bill Adams, a
biologist with the Corps of Engineers in
Wilmington, who rediscovered the snails
about 20 years ago. And it is possible that
the snails may now have disappeared from
these locations since no one has been able
to verify their existence there lately.
The principal investigator for a U.S.
Fish and Wildlife Service propagation
study of the snails, Wood has spent the past
few years trying to find out what they need
to survive. Their demise, he believes, is
linked to the disappearance of their
habitats, which concerns him. By the mid-
19th century, the beaver ponds where they
used to live practically vanished as beaver
populations dwindled due to trapping.
Now development encroaches on the
freshwater ponds where the snails were
also found, and runoff from construction
changes the surrounding landscape.
30 SPRING 1999
PEOPLE
& PLACES
The snail is just one of Wood's
proteges.
A self-described "bleeding heart
environmentalist," he has a tendency to
apologize for sermonizing and then get
right to it. He believes man's self-centered,
myopic attitudes are destroying wildlife
while blinding us to the ways that animals
recharge the environment. Beaver dams,
while they flood farmlands, also create
some of the most fertile soils, he explains.
His untiring voice is one reason the
National Marine Educators Association
gave him the James Centorino Award for
distinguished performance in marine
education last year.
"I talk a lot to anyone who will listen.
I preach," he says. "What literally
motivates me is the thought of this planet
20 years from now, and the children —
including my 9- and 1 1 -year-old sons —
and what they will have. This planet is our
only home ... and so long as we continue to
abuse it, we are making our bed that we
will have to sleep in."
For as long as he can remember,
Wood wanted to be a naturalist like his
father and two generations who preceded
him. Bom in Washington, D.C., Wood
grew up in Weston, Conn., close to a
nature center where he spent every
moment of his free time — he hitchhiked
to get there when he couldn't drive. As a
child, he took part in the center's programs.
As a teen, he was summer manager of the
animals in the 54-acre sanctuary.
In 1970, at age 15, he was involved in
the first Earth Day celebration. He also was
one of Ralph Nader's Raiders, a group of
teens old enough to testify in court but
young enough not to go to jail for trespass-
ing as they gathered evidence of environ-
mental misdeeds. Working with a college
student, Wood sneaked onto the grounds of
a paint factory to take pictures of paint
being discharged into the Housatonic River
in Connecticut.
"There was some clandestine activity
involved here, which made it all the more
romantic for a 15-year-old," he recalls.
"Eight years later, the court case finally
was settled, and if I recall correctly, it was
about a $ 1 2 million settlement. But the
pipe had been closed off years before
that."
In 1 974, Wood entered Texas A&M
University, where he had thought he
would follow his childhood dream of
studying herpetology. When he learned
the university didn't offer the degree, he
began to explore other avenues, discover-
ing new interests from animal anatomy to
geology and botany. Meanwhile, his job
caring for rattlesnakes and other reptiles at
a university research center kept him in
touch with his past.
By the time he graduated in 1981
with a bachelor of science degree in
wildlife and fishery science and conserva-
tion, he had a well-rounded education,
which prepared him for the diverse routes
he would follow. He worked free-lance as
a natural science instructor and sought to
protect birds of prey through another job in
San Antonio, Texas. Soon afterward, he
met his wife, Sandy, in New Mexico,
where she was on an exchange program
from North Carolina State University.
It was love at first sight, he recalls. A
year later, he followed her back to Raleigh,
where he was summer camp director at the
N.C. Museum of Natural Sciences. Later
he worked with the Raleigh Parks and
Recreation Department and then for the
NC State College of Veterinary Medicine,
reconstructing skeletons that ranged from
a mouse to a giraffe for anatomy classes.
The couple married in 1984, and a
year later, Wood was connected with the
Fort Fisher aquarium through a job as
director of a summer science camp for
UNC- Wilmington. Since becoming the
aquarium's education curator in 1987, he
and his staff have broadened the scope of
programs offered to the public.
The aquarium now teaches surfing.
He figures it is the only public aquarium in
the United States to do so. "We do it
because surfing appeals to a group of
people who might not otherwise partici-
pate in our conservation/education-based
programs," he says.
The programs, which range from
crabbing to "scaly stories" for children, are
just one avenue to get the message out.
For Wood, most days are frenetic because
he puts himself at the disposal of the
public, and his hands are in so many pots.
Good days are when he can get
outside to lead a field trip on the neighbor-
ing beach or salt marsh. A lot of the time,
he's fielding calls on environmental issues
from the media, homeowners and city or
county planners. Following his cause often
takes him beyond regular work hours.
As a regional coordinator, he helped
North Carolina Sea Grant launch the first
Beach Sweep cleanup. And for more than
a decade, he's been a weekly natural
history commentator on WHQR,
Wilmington's National Public Radio
affiliate.
In 1990, to mark the 20th anniversary
of Earth Day, he founded the Earth Day
Alliance of the Lower Cape Fear, bringing
together environmental groups, business
leaders and concerned citizens to speak
more cohesively on environmental issues.
In the past two years, he's worked to
amend a plan to convert a sandhills
longleaf pine habitat owned by the city of
Wilmington into ball fields.
"The perception right now is the only
valuable land in North Carolina is
wedand, and that's just not true," Wood
says. "We have to be as diligent about
protecting our dry land because that's
where much of our rain falls. And if we
cover over our dry lands with impervious
asphalt and concrete, that water just runs
off and doesn't recharge aquifers, and it
pollutes our streams and lakes and then
our salt marshes and ocean, and ulti-
mately, us."
Wood's dedication overrides
everything, says Corps of Engineers
biologist Adams, who has known him for
10 years.
"I think he would take vows of
celibacy and poverty if he thought it could
protect the environment better," he says,
laughing. "That's one of the things that
makes Andy unique." □
COASTWATCH 31
MARITIME
MORSELS
Crabby Fare
a glutton for all species of
seafood, but if forced to choose a favor-
ite I'd have to say the succulent meat of
the blue crab reigns king of the sea on
my plate. The moist, flaky morsels of
meat have a delicate sweetness that is
rich and rarefied. No other crab — not
Dungeness, snow, stone or king — can
quite measure up in flavor or texture.
But perhaps my affinity for the blue
crab is more than good taste. My first
ocean catch some 20-plus years ago was
a blue crab, scooped up with a handheld
net after patiently dangling a chicken
neck on a string in Topsail Sound. I was
fascinated by the feisty crustaceans, and
it wasn't long before I was helping my
friend Beverly Mills bait and later
empty her family's two crab pots.
What naturally followed — the
aroma of crabs being steamed with
packets of fragrant spices — became
another sensory delight that I fondly
associate with the Tar Heel coast.
Beverly's mother would dump baskets
of steaming orange crabs (the crabs turn
from blue-green to a bright orange
during cooking) onto a newspaper-
covered table for us to clean.
The ensuing picking — the
extraction of the lumps of sweet meat
from the crab's claws and compartmen-
talized body — was a labor of love. You
had to really love crabmeat to labor so
much for a pound of it.
For me, it was worth it. You can't
beat crab cakes chock-full of fresh crab
and held together with a scant amount of
breading and a few eggs.
These days I rarely catch my own,
choosing instead to occasionally splurge
$12 to $16 for a pound of fresh
crabmeat or $8 to $10 for an 8-ounce
By Kathy Hart
container of pasteurized meat. The fresh
crab should be used quickly, usually
within two days of purchase. Crabmeat
has a short shelf life and will spoil
quickly. Unopened pasteurized
crabmeat can be stored for up to six
months in the refrigerator. But once
opened, it too should be consumed
quickly.
To me, fresh crabmeat is always
best. It's more flavorful and moist than
meat that has undergone the additional
processing step involved in pasteuriza-
tion. But the pasteurized meat is a close
second and often a cheaper option since
it's sold in smaller containers.
Generally, fresh and pasteurized
crabmeat is marketed and priced
according to three grades: lump, special
and claw.
Lump, also called backfin, is
always the most expensive and contains
only large chunks of snow-white meat
taken from the body of the crab. Lump
meat is used in recipes where appear-
ance is important, such as in cocktails or
salads.
Special contains smaller pieces of
meat taken from the body of the crab.
It's just as tasty as the lump and is used
in soups, casseroles and baked dishes. It
is moderately priced.
Claw meat is tinged brown and,
as the name suggests, is extracted from
the crab's claws. It is the least expensive
and is used in recipes such as casseroles
or stuffing where appearance isn't
important.
Most crabmeat is handpicked, but
some is mechanically extracted. Before
using any crabmeat in a recipe, you
should place it in a bowl and sift
through it with your fingers for several
minutes to remove any shell or cartilage.
Following are some of my favorite
crabmeat recipes — ones that I've
developed because of my hunger for the
sweetness of the cooked crustaceans.
Crab Ball
• 6 to 8 ounces of fresh, pasteurized
or canned crabmeat
• 1 8-ounce package cream cheese
• 1/4 cup seasoned bread crumbs
• 1 teaspoon horseradish sauce
• 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 clove garlic (pressed)
• Seafood Sauce (recipe follows)
Combine crabmeat, cream cheese,
bread crumbs, horseradish sauce,
Worcestershire sauce and garlic. Form
into a ball and refrigerate overnight to
allow flavors to blend. Before serving,
pour sauce over ball. Serve with
crackers.
Seafood Sauce
• 1/2 cup ketchup
• 2 tablespoons horseradish sauce
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
Carolina Crab Cakes with
Creamy Horseradish Sauce
This recipe appears in Desperation
Dinners, a cookbook published by
Workman Publishing and written by
Alicia Ross and my friend Beverly Mills.
Mills asked me for a recipe that could
be prepared and cooked in 20 minutes
— the criteria for all of the recipes
published in the book. I immediately
thought of this one, which uses the
crabby crustaceans she had introduced
to me many years ago at Topsail Beach.
32 SPRING 1999
MARITIME
MORSELS
• 1 8-ounce
container of
pasteurized
crab claw meat
• 1/2 cup chopped
onion
• 1/2 cup chopped
green pepper
• 6 tablespoons
margarine
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 cup plain dry
bread crumbs
• 1/4 cup reduced-
fat mayonnaise
• 2 teaspoons
Worcestershire sauce
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• Creamy Horseradish Sauce
(recipe follows)
Place crabmeat in a medium mixing
bowl. Sift through the meat with your
fingers to remove any shell or cartilage.
Over medium heat, saute onion and
green pepper in 2 tablespoons of
margarine until soft, about 8 minutes.
Add to crabmeat. Add eggs, bread
crumbs, mayonnaise, Worcestershire
sauce, black pepper and salt. Stir to
combine.*
Melt remaining 4 tablespoons of
margarine in a skillet over medium heat.
Meanwhile, using your hands, shape the
crab mixture into patties about 1 inch
thick. Drop into skillet.
Fry patties until golden on one side,
3 to 4 minutes. Turn and repeat on the
other side. Remove from skillet and
serve with a dollop of creamy horse-
radish sauce. Serves 4.
Scott D. Taylor
Creamy Horseradish
Sauce
• 1/2 cup reduced-fat or no-fat
sour cream
• 1 tablespoon horseradish
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
Combine all ingredients in a bowl
and stir to blend well.
* If you don 't want fried cakes, you
can also use this mixture to fill the caps
of large, cleaned mushrooms or the
pocket of medium-sized flounder
prepared for stuffing.
Crab Omelets
• 6 ounces of fresh or pasteurized
crabmeat
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 8-ounce package of sliced
mushrooms
• 4 tablespoons margarine
• 6 eggs
• 1 cup of grated cheddar, swiss
or hot pepper jack cheese
• 1 avocado, peeled and diced
Place
crabmeat in
a medium
mixing bowl.
Sift through
the meat with
your fingers
to remove
any shell or
cartilage.
In a
nonstick skillet
over medium
heat, saute
chopped onion
and sliced
mushrooms in 2 tablespoons of
margarine until softened, about 8
minutes. Remove the sauteed onion
and mushrooms to a medium bowl.
Return skillet to heat and melt 1
tablespoon of margarine. Meanwhile,
break 3 eggs into a 2-quart bowl and
beat with a whisk until light and
frothy. Pour the eggs into heated
skillet and cook, without stirring,
until the edges are set and the middle
is only slightly runny, 3 to 4 minutes.
Working quickly, add 1/2 of the
sauteed vegetables to one side of the
omelet. Top with 1/2 of the crab-
meat, 1/2 cup grated cheese and 1/2
of the diced avocado. Using a wide
spatula, fold the plain half of the
omelet over the filled half. Slide the
omelet onto a plate.
Repeat process with remaining
eggs, margarine, sauteed vegetables,
cheese, crabmeat and avocado.
Makes 2 large omelets. Or
divide each large omelet in half to
make four smaller servings. □
COASTWATCH 33
CD Z 2
m x g g
— oo — I H
n g x i
oi n n
7 > >
n O O
From the Editor
Carson in Carolina
Rachel Carson had homes in Maine and
Maryland, but she apparently had a soft spot for i
North Carolina as well. \
In her writings, she eloquently describes our
coastal life and landscape — the formation of
shoals off Cape Lookout, the spectacular image of
whistling swans at Lake Mattamuskeet and the saga
of mollusks whose shells we find scattered along
Cape Hatteras. But her North Carolina legacy is
more than a footnote.
The Rachel Carson site, part of the North
Carolina National Estuarine Research Reserve, is a
string of islands across from historic downtown
Beaufort. Tourists marvel at the islands' horses.
Families and school groups take day trips to the
reserve to learn about the life cycles and habitats of
our crucial estuary system.
Before visiting the reserve, pick up Carson's Tlie Edge of the Sea
and 77?^ Sea Around Us. Chapters lead you to "The Rim of Sand" and
"The Coral Coast" and offer glimpses of "Hidden Lands" or "The
Moving Tides."
Glimpses into Carson's personal life are harder to come by, but
A Seme of Wonder: A Play Based on the Life and Works of Rachel
Carson offers insight on the woman best-known for Silent Spring, her
book on the dangers of pesticides. The one-woman play, written and
performed by Kaiulani Lee, was crafted from Carson's letters, diaries
and books.
Although Carson attended college in the 1920s, her words still
strike a chord with high school and college students. Dozens attended
a performance sponsored by the Center for Environmental Education
at Duke University.
Carson was more than a scientist, explains Jenni Giles of Apex
High School. "She strived to be a woman who was a part of nature."
The performance touched adults as well. Durham City Council
member Pam Blyth says Carson's works reinforce how urban
planning decisions have impact downstream.
For example, the Neuse River flows from Falls
Lake in the Triangle to the Pamlico Sound.
Carson's love of the sea blossomed with
her first glimpse of the waters at Woods Hole,
Mass. But Carson kept a focus on her family,
caring for aging parents and raising two nieces on
her salary as a marine biologist and later, as editor-
in-chief at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
The play is set when Carson is in her 50s.
While battling cancer, she responds to the high
praise and harsh criticism of Silent Spring. She
also raises her great-nephew, Roger, whom she
adopts after both his parents die. Young Roger's
eagerness to enjoy the sea helps Carson keep alive
her own sense of wonder.
We think that Coastwatch helps rekindle your "sense of wonder"
about the sea and sounds, dunes and coastal plain. When you share
Coastwatch with friends, family and co-workers, the wonder
spreads like a rippling wave. Extend that wave by sending a
gift subscription to a special person, or to a local school or
senior center.
In this issue, we look at the past and the future of human life
along the shore. Julie Ann Powers finds whispers of history in the
abandoned village of Portsmouth. Renee Wolcott Shannon ponders
the emerging practice of water-use zoning, and photographer Michael
Halminski shows the preparations for the movement of the Cape
Hatteras lighthouse.
We look at nature as well. Ann Green takes readers to the North
Carolina Estuarium, while I tell of a new network to save stranded
whales. Odile Fredericks shares a treasure trove of coastal wildflow-
ers, while Shannon describes the tasty Atlantic bonito.
What inspires your sense of wonder at the coast? Drop me a note
ore-mail — kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu. You could inspire a
future story. □
Katie Mosher, Managing Editor
Contributors
Writers:
Odile Fredericks D Ann Green D Katie Mosher D Julie Ann Powers n Renee Wolcott Shannon
Photographers:
Michael Halminski D Juliana Harding ° Herman Lankford H Scott D. Taylor
Features
Coastal Tidings .
Whispers from a Village: Portsmouth Legacy Lives On
Portsmouth is empty now, frozen at the moment when the last resident
left. Amid the solitude and sunwashed homes are memories of a bustling
fishing village and a way of life that is fast vanishing 6
Memories of Home from Portsmouth's Last Baby
Jessie Lee Babb Dominique was the last child to attend Portsmouth's
one-room school. She recounts the pleasures of life in the one place
that will always be "home." 13
Crowded Coastal Waters:
Is Water-Use Planning in North Carolina's Future?
Water skiers, shellfish-lease owners and fishers jostle for space in our
creeks and sounds. How can the state prevent conflict over water
resources as more and more people flock to our beautiful shores? 14
Hatteras History on the Move:
Lighthouse Relocation in Progress
The Hatteras light has been a North Carolina symbol for more than a
century, but erosion steadily encroaches on the historic structure. This
story illuminates the controversial efforts to remove the lighthouse
from the ocean's grasp 20
People & Places: North Carolina Estuarium Showcases Sights
and Sounds of an Ecosystem
The N.C. Estuarium celebrates the unique environment found in our
estuaries. Journey to Washington for an in-depth look at what happens
where fresh and salt water mingle 23
Sea Science: A Whale of a Network:
Rapid Response Team Assists Entangled Humpback
A new whale disentanglement network, formed through help from a
state Fishery Resource Grant, frees its first whale. Come along for
the ride 26
Naturalist's Notebook: Natural Beauties: Coastal Flora Bountiful
Summer wildflowers blossom along our coastline, fragile treasures
hidden in the sand or grass. Learn to identify these beauties 29
The Catch: Tuna Confusion:
Distinguishing Atlantic Bonito from Little Tunny
These two tasty fish are often mistaken for each other, but you can only
catch one of them in summer — the delicious Atlantic bonito 32
COASTWATCH 1
Coastwatch
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 12-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http://www2.ncm.edu/sea_grant/seagrant.html.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch, North Carolina Sea Grant,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
Front cover photo of the
Styron-Bragg house in Portsmouth
and table of contents photo of
beach-goers at Fort Macon
State Park by Scott D. Taylor.
Printed on recycled paper. ®
Tackling the Threat of Exotic Species
North Carolina is under attack by
aliens. Alien nuisance species, that is:
plants and animals that are not native to our
ecosystems and whose invasions of our
sounds and rivers can prove costly.
The Invasive Species Council, created
this year by an executive order from
President Clinton, marks federal awareness
of the mounting threat from exotic species.
North Carolina Sea Grant is already doing
its part to protect our state from these alien
invaders.
Barbara Doll, water quality
specialist for North Carolina
Sea Grant, emphasizes the
state's vulnerability. One Jg
threat lurks just to the
north, in the lower
Chesapeake Bay. In recent
months, researchers there
have discovered the veined
Rapa whelk, which is native
to the Sea of Japan. The large
whelk eats hard clams,
sucking out the body and
leaving the shell empty.
"It could come here," says Doll.
"It may be here already. It likes hard sand
bottoms and it likes hard clams, and we've
got those."
In an effort to prepare our part of the
country to fight the whelk and other
aquatic nuisance species, North Carolina
Sea Grant is co-sponsoring a regional
conference on exotic species Oct. 12-14.
Sponsors include the Tennessee Valley
Authority, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife
Service, the U.S. Army Corps of Engi-
neers, other Sea Grant programs in the
Southeast and natural resource managers
from several states.
The Charleston, S.C., conference will
focus on a region that extends from North
Carolina to Florida and west through the
Gulf Coast of Texas. "The Southeast is an
area that's never been looked at," Doll
says. The conference will
discuss existing problems
with exotic species in the
region and identify
possible new invaders.
Participants also will
discuss state policies
and regional efforts that
would help stop the
spread of aquatic
nuisance species.
"We don't have a
cooperative agreement with
other states in the region," says Doll,
yet North Carolina's waterways drain into
South Carolina and Tennessee. The
conference, "Aquatic Nuisance Species: A
Focus on the Southeast," will help the
region present a united front against future
invasions. - R.W.S.
In the Next Issue of Coastwatch
The Cape Fear River has long been a watery highway for North Carolina's
fishers and tugboat captains. In the next issue of Coastwatch, T. Edward
Nickens takes a boat ride through Cape Fear River history and explores the
importance of this artery of commerce. To the north, Ann Green visits
Pettigrew State Park, where majestic bald cypress trees offer a glimpse into
an area once dominated by swamplands. The park is home to Lake Phelps,
the state's second largest natural lake and an angler's paradise. Green also
delves into the secrets of the crafty blue crab with researcher David
Eggleston, who has new findings on North Carolina's most profitable catch.
2 EARLY SUMMER 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Fishery Resource Projects Selected
Sixteen new projects — ranging
from studies of blue crab and eel health to
efforts to improve the safety and shelf life
of fish fillets — have been approved for
funding through the state's Fishery
Resource Grant Program.
The projects, totaling about $500,000,
were selected recently by the N.C. Marine
Fisheries Commission. The Fishery
Resource Grant Program, the first of its
kind in the nation, is funded by the North
Carolina General Assembly and adminis-
tered by North Carolina Sea Grant.
Another request for proposals is
expected this summer.
The program was created to highlight
the intuition and innovation of those
who make a living on or near the water.
Grants target commercial or recreational
fishers, seafood processors and others
involved in fishing industries. Other
applicants need participation with and
endorsement from industry representatives.
Fishers are encouraged to work with
academic researchers to increase the
scientific validity of the projects. North
Carolina Sea Grant, with its tradition of
funding scientific research that can be
transferred to use in coastal communities,
often facilitates the link.
"We are seeing more partnerships
between academic and industry persons
than in the past. I believe this is good for
the program," says Bob Hines, a North
Carolina Sea Grant fisheries specialist and
Fishery Resource Grant coordinator.
'Tm looking forward to working with
this year's grant recipients," he adds.
Since the program was created in
1994, 156 projects have been funded. All
regions of the North Carolina coast have
been represented.
A total of 57 proposals were submitted
in January. The 16 projects selected
represent four main categories: fishery
equipment and gear, aquaculture and
mariculture, environmental pilot projects,
and seafood technology.
To learn more about a 1998 Fishery
Resource Grant that developed a North
Carolina network to assist whales tangled in
fishing nets, turn to page 26.
For more information, or to apply for
the Fishery Resource Grant Program, call
Hines at 252/247-4007, or the Sea Grant
office in Raleigh, 919/515-2454. To review
a list of past projects, check the Web at
www2.ncsu. edu/sea_grant/frgpage. html.
-K.M.
Warm-Blooded Fish
JVIost fish are cold-blooded, meaning their body temperatures
fluctuate with the surrounding water. But about 25 species keep
their eyes, brain or entire body warm just as birds and
mammals do. All species of tuna are warm-
blooded, as are some mackerel and
billfish such as marlin and swordfish.
Scientists have two competing
theories about these fishes' thermal
abilities. One maintains that the fish
developed their warming capacity to
expand their ranges into colder ocean regions
that offered more food sources. The other maintains
that the heating allows the fish to increase their aerobic
capacity so they can be more active. For more information on
two look-alike warm-blooded fish, see page 32.
Foiling
Oil Spills
This year marks the 10th
anniversary of the environmentally
disastrous Exxon Valdez oil spill
in Prince William Sound, Alaska.
The wreck of the Valdez pumped
1 1.2 million gallons of oil into the
water and left a legacy of habitat
degradation that lingers today.
In the early 1980s, North
Carolina Sea Grant and the North
Carolina Biotechnology Center
supported research that studied
com slash as a means of absorbing
spilled oil. Com slash is the plant
material left in the field after the
com is harvested.
Hans Paerl, a researcher from
the University of North Carolina at
Chapel Hill, tested the usefulness
of com slash in experimental spills
in outdoor ponds. He found that
the com material absorbed the oil
and had an additional benefit: it
provided a good substrate for
bacterial growth, and the bacteria
helped speed the natural break-
down of the oil.
The com slash also answered
a problem that often goes hand-in-
hand with oil-spill cleanup. When
using biodegradation techniques,
cleanup teams often have to
fertilize the water with nitrogen so
that the oil-eating bacteria can
survive. Using the com slash
allowed the bacteria to produce
their own nitrogen through
nitrogen fixation.
Though com slash would be
no match for spills like the Valdez,
techniques like this one could be
extremely useful in small,
confined oil spills in marinas or
marshes.
- R.W.S.
COASTWATCH
COASTAL
TIDINGS
HazNet
Salt Marsh Restoration
Improves Coastal Habitats
New Web Site
Opens Window on
Coastal Hazards
Want guidelines on protecting
your roof during a hurricane or tips
on storm shutters? How about access
to disaster experts or data on major
hurricanes? All of this information is
available online at the new Sea
Grant HazNet site, a national
information network focusing on
coastal hazards awareness, research
and outreach programs.
To help people meet the
challenges of natural disasters —
from floods and coastal erosion to
storm surges and hurricanes —
the site provides information and
resources from Sea Grant, the
National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration and other sources.
Consumers can access basic
information about coastal hazards as
well as detailed reports, including
one on the building codes and
practices in south Florida since
Hurricane Andrew.
The project aims to "enhance
the contributions of the Sea Grant
network in the national effort to
reduce the adverse impacts of
natural hazards, including loss of
life, economic losses and social
disruptions," says South Carolina
Sea Grant Extension Program
Leader Bob Bacon, who oversees
the site.
Visit the HazNet Web site at
www.hamet.org. — A.G.
Ai ong North Carolina's coast and
across the country, salt marshes have
disappeared at an alarming rate during the
past century.
Because salt marshes are of para-
mount ecological importance, researchers
have developed a number of restoration
techniques — from removal of fill to
planting new salt marsh vegetation.
These restoration techniques are
summarized in the new publication Salt
Marsh Restoration: Coastal Habitat
Enhancement by B.J. Copeland, former
director of North Carolina Sea Grant. The
publication was funded by the National
Sea Grant Program, North Carolina Sea
Grant and the National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration Coastal
Ocean Program.
"I want to show that — after 30 years
of research by scientists like Steve Broome
of North Carolina State University — it is
possible to restore fundamental coastal
habitats," says Copeland, professor of
zoology and marine sciences at NC State.
'To restore marshes, you need to pay
attention to details. I hope the publication
will help coastal managers find new ways
to mitigate salt marshes."
To help managers understand
restoration techniques, the booklet is
packed with photos and drawings.
Guidelines are given for site selection and
site preparation, establishing vegetation
and cultivation and maintenance. To gauge
success, the last section gives advice on
landscape assessment and monitoring.
To order your free copy of Salt Marsh
Restoration, call North Carolina Sea Grant
at 919/5 15-2454, e-mail harriss®
unity.ncsu.edu or fax your request to 919/
515-7095. " -A.G.
Beach Strolls Yield Simple Treasures
he search for
seashells can delight
beachcombers of all
ages. Identifying these
treasures adds to the
excitement of the hunt.
In fact, summer
beach adventures offer
the perfect opportu-
nity for hands-on
learning.
Seashells of North
Carolina is ideal for a
shell-hunter's beach
tote — and would
make a great gift for a
special teacher.
This 1 32-page book offers back-
ground on bivalves and gastropods and
tips for the serious collector.
To identify a shell, readers can turn to
the "descriptive guide to families" section
which leads to entries for each family.
Scott D. Taylor
The book
contains details for
more than 250 shells
found in North
Carolina. Size,
description and
habitat are noted,
along with black-and-
white photographs.
The book also includes
30 color photographs.
The award-
winning Seashells of
North Carolina, written
by Hugh J. Porter and
Lynn Houser, is
available for $1 2 per copy. To order, make
your check payable to North Carolina Sea
Grant. Mail your request to North Carolina
Sea Grant, North Carolina State University,
Box 8605, Raleigh, NC 27695-8605. For
more information, call 919/515-2454.
-KM
EARLY SUMMER 7999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Wild Horses Receive
Birth Control Vaccine
Th
his year, N.C.
Division of Coastal
Management
officials are trying to
stop the overpopula-
tion of wild horses at
the Rachel Carson
reserve site in
Beaufort.
In March,
horses that live on a
collection of islands that includes Carrot
Island, Town Marsh, Bird Shoal and Horse
Island received birth control vaccinations.
The division wants to control the
number of horses to ensure that the herd
continues to have enough food and water,
and to prevent additional damage to the
sanctuary, one of eight sites comprising the
N.C. Coastal Reserve. Studies have shown
that the horses severely damage important
Scott D. Taylor
plants on the reserve
and increase erosion
on the islands.
This is the third
year the horses have
been vaccinated.
Because past
vaccinations were
unsuccessful, the
horses received a
new vaccine called
porcine zonae pellucidae.
The Assateague National Seashore
near Ocean City, Md., famous for its wild
horses, has used this vaccine for more than
a decade.
Only mares received the vaccine,
which is effective for one year. As older
mares die, some younger horses will not
receive vaccinations, allowing them to
produce offspring and continue the herd.
-AG.
Restoring Oysters
The nation's oyster stocks are under
siege. Overharvesting and habitat destruc-
tion have hurt oyster populations all over
the country, but diseases like MSX and
Dermo are often the worst killers.
The U.S. Congress has funded an
Oyster Disease Research Program to help
determine causes and identify solutions to
oyster disease. For a copy of the program's
report, "Restoring Oysters to U.S. Coastal
Waters," call Maryland Sea Grant at 301/
405-6376.
While the country waits for a cure for
oyster illnesses, North Carolina shellfish
farmers arm themselves with new strategies
to settle and grow more oysters on their
leases. Fast-growing oysters also can be
harvested before Dermo or MSX kills
them. Neither disease is toxic to humans.
Several of the state's Fishery Resource
Grant projects have been devoted to oyster
research. Mark and Penny Hooper,
operators of Hooper Family Seafood in
Smyrna, have received several mariculture
grants to make the oyster fishery a
profitable business once more.
In one project, the Hoopers experi-
mented with the cage and rack method of
oyster culture, an off-bottom system that
promotes fast growth during the oysters'
first 20 months. The cage and rack system
is widely used on the West Coast and in
France, but had not been tried with native
North Carolina oysters.
The Hoopers found that using the
system allowed faster oyster growth, with
oysters reaching marketable size before
diseases could kill them. Oysters produced
in the cages were also very clean, giving
the Hoopers a market niche.
Two other projects were designed to
enhance methods of collecting wild oyster
seed. Seed from wild stock gives oyster
growers the advantage of growing hardy
shellfish that are primed for the North
Carolina environment. — R.W.S.
Discover
Ancient Fossils
Would you like to dig for
prehistoric sharks' teeth and other
marine fossils? How about
exploring the PCS mine in Aurora
— one of the world's largest
phosphate facilities — or viewing
an exhibit of prehistoric man in
eastern North Carolina?
These activities are part of the
6th Annual Fossil Festival May
28-30 in Aurora. The festival, co-
sponsored by the Aurora-Richland
Township Chamber of Commerce
and the town of Aurora, features a
parade, fossil auction, street dance,
vendors and singing groups.
Fossil collectors can add to
their collections during digs May
29 and May 30 across the street
from the Aurora Fossil Museum
and at other locations. "In the past,
people have found sharks' teeth,
porpoise teeth, sea urchin spines
and porpoise vertebrae," says
Candace Holliday, the festival co-
chairperson and the director of the
fossil museum.
After digging for fossils, you
can view a variety of museum
exhibits, including fossilized
bones, shells and coral, and
discover how geologic forces have
created this large bed of fossils.
If you miss the festival, but
love fossils, don't despair. You
can still visit the museum this
summer. During June, July and
August, museum hours are 9 a.m.
to 4:30 p.m. Tuesday through
Friday and 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Saturday.
For more information, call
252/322-4238 or 252/322-4727
or visit the Web site: www.
southfest. com . — A. G .
COASTWATCH
Whispers
from a
Village
Portsmouth
Legacy
Lives On
By Julie Ann Powers
Photographs by
Scott D . Taylor
^^^sL one lives in Portsmouth
anymore: no one to tell the story of how
this pretty soundside village on North Core
Banks came to be, no one to tell of all it
has gained and lost since it was founded in
1753.
But the wind, rising along the sandy
lanes, whispers of busy wharves and 18th
century sailing ships. The distant surf
murmurs of old-time fishermen filling their
nets. A footfall on the Life Saving Station
porch recalls brave men and daring
rescues.
The church bell's chime, sounded by
a tug on a rope, speaks of weekly respites
to give thanks and gather strength. A
creaky hinge on the post office door
recounts when it was a portal to the entire
outside world.
Continued
6 EARLY SUMMER 1999
No one lives in Portsmouth anymore:
no one to tell how changing ways and the
fickle sea took away Portsmouth's purpose
and its people, one by one.
Portsmouth, though, lives on — as a
Cape Lookout National Seashore testimo-
nial to an island lifestyle, gone forever.
And Portsmouth lives on in the hearts of its
exiled natives, who still cherish the cluster
of sunwashed buildings, empty now for 28
years, as their hometown.
"When I say home, I mean Ports-
mouth," says Jessie Lee Babb Dominique.
"I wish I could go back, every day." Now
of Beaufort, she was the last baby bom in
Portsmouth, 71 years ago, the last scholar
at its one-room school. Her sister and her
aunt were the last two residents of
Portsmouth, before isolation forced them
off the island in 1971.
In i860, the population reached
a high of nearly 700 people,
including 117 slaves. The population
was only 320 in 1870.
A decade later, it had fallen to 220.
Dominique is among a handful of
former residents who can remember
Portsmouth, across Ocracoke Inlet from
the village of Ocracoke, as a vibrant, small
community.
In Dominique's childhood, families
were close-knit and friends were always
ready to help. The men served in the Coast
Guard, as her father did, or fished for a
living. Her hard-working elders relaxed on
summer evenings with a croquet match.
She worshipped at the picturesque
Methodist church on Sundays. She saw her
neighbors on weekday afternoons in an
island ritual that underscored Portsmouth's
remoteness.
"We'd go and wait for the mail to
come in," she says. "It came from the
mainland in the afternoon. The general
store was where people gathered."
The post office, established in 1840,
occupied one comer of the general store
and a prominent place in the far-flung
village's daily life. Everything from letters
to mail-order furniture to visitors arrived
via the mailboat.
When Cape Lookout National
Seashore was created in 1976 and took
custody of Portsmouth, memories like
these were deemed an important part of
state and national heritage. The National
Park Service keeps Portsmouth more or
less as it was when occupied in the first
half of the 20th century.
"Nothing much has changed," says
Cape Lookout education specialist Laurie
Heupel. "That's the point of Portsmouth."
On the National Register of Historic
Places, Portsmouth today consists of about
20 structures and several cemeteries,
scattered over about 250 acres at the
northernmost tip of North Core Banks. The
buildings and graveyards are located
wherever high ground rises above the
marsh. A mile of sand flats, sometimes
underwater, separates the edge of the village
and the Atlantic.
Though Portsmouth's history stretches
back almost 250 years, most buildings date
to the early 1900s. The houses last occupied
are painted a light yellow. The Methodist
church, considered the village symbol, was
built around 1914; the schoolhouse in 1920.
The turn-of-the-century Life Saving
Service's barracks and watchtower,
boathouse, summer kitchen and stables are
at the rim of town nearest the ocean.
The oldest structure is thought to be the
Washington Roberts house, dating to the
late 1700s. Its massive wood foundation
blocks were likely cut from timbers washed
ashore from a shipwreck. Losses at sea
sometimes were Portsmouth's gain, as
islanders salvaged such cargo as coffee,
8 EARLY SUMMER 1999
clothing and building supplies. The village
also sheltered passengers and crew rescued
from doomed vessels. Two sea captains
who died in the early 1 800s are buried on
the beach side of the village.
Portsmouth once shared North Core
Banks, also called Portsmouth Island, with
two other nearby communities. Overgrown
foundations and lost gravestones are all
that remain of Middle Community and
Sheep Island.
Accessible only by boat through
treacherous waters, on an untamed,
uninhabited barrier island, Portsmouth now
is an easily overlooked nook of North
Carolina. For the first century after its 1753
founding, however, Portsmouth was
among the largest and most important
Outer Banks settlements. Ocracoke Inlet
was the only access through the island
chain to the colonial ports of Bath, New
Bern and Washington.
The ships of the day — traveling
inbound with sugar and spices and fabric,
laden with lumber and pitch outbound —
drew more water than Ocracoke Inlet and
Pamlico Sound provided. Portsmouth and
nearby Shell Castle Island evolved as a
"lightering" station. Using slave labor, cargo
was transferred to and from lighter, shallow
draft boats for the journeys beyond.
Two-thirds of North Carolina's exports
in the early 1 800s passed through Ocracoke
Inlet. Traffic was heavy enough to merit a
mariners' hospital at Portsmouth to care for
sick and injured seafarers. Its rainwater
cistern — the sky is Portsmouth's only
source of fresh water — still remains. In
1 860, the population reached a high of
nearly 700 people, including 1 17 slaves, and
the town boasted more than 100 buildings
— homes, warehouses and stores.
The sea, though, already had begun to
forsake Portsmouth. Ocracoke Inlet shifted
and shoaled. Shell Castle Island, composed
of oyster shells, eroded away. An 1 846
storm sliced new inlets — and new trade
routes — through Hatteras Island to the
north.
Other events also conspired against
Portsmouth. Railroads began to displace
ships as a means of moving goods. The
approach of Northern troops during the
Civil War in 1861 drove most residents off
the island, and many never returned.
The population was 320 in 1 870. A
decade later, it had fallen to 220. With
shipping commerce gone, fishing and
shellfishing became economic mainstays
for residents. Lodges to house those
hunting the abundant waterfowl appeared
in the early 1900s.
The post office, established in 1840,
occupied one corner of the general store
and a prominent place in the far-flung
village's daily life. Everything from
letters to mail-order furniture to
visitors arrived via the mailboat
The establishment of a U.S. Life
Saving Service station in 1894 brought a
new mission to the village. The rescue
service, later incorporated into the present-
day U.S. Coast Guard, recruited local men
for its ranks, and was an important
presence, philosophically and economi-
cally, for 43 years. The "surf soldiers"
drilled rigorously for dangerous sea
rescues, and the station commander was a
community leader.
When the station was decommis-
sioned in 1937, Portsmouth's final spiral
downward began. The station's reactiva-
tion during World War II only forestalled
the village's demise. From the 1930 census
Continued
COASTWATCH 9
of 104, the population fell to 17 in 1956.
The post office locked its doors in 1959.
By 1970, just three residents —
including Marian Gray Babb, Dominique's
older sister, and Elma Dixon, Dominique's
aunt — still called the island home, though
they spent winters on the mainland. When
the only man among the trio, Henry Pigott,
died in January 1971, Dixon and Babb
reluctantiy moved to Beaufort. Dixon died
in 1990, Babb in 1993.
The rescue service recruited local men
for its ranks. The "surf soldiers"
drilled rigourously for dangerous
sea rescues, and the station commander
was a community leader.
During their years on the mainland,
both longed to be back in Portsmouth.
They kept their Portsmouth houses ready
to occupy, but returned to their island
homes only to visit.
And the village of their younger years
was frozen in time.
Recollections of Portsmouth's past
have cast a spell reaching far beyond its
former inhabitants. The last generation of
residents has become nearly legendary
through the oft-repeated accounts of their
daily routines — Miss Annie Salter, the
postmistress who wore her hair in a neat
bun; Miss Mary Dixon, who taught for 37
years in the one-room school; Henry Pigott
and his sister Lizzie, descendents of the
slaves who toiled in the lightering business.
Henry Pigott, "A Friend To All,"
according to a tribute to him in the church,
was the island's last mailman. Like others
before him, he piloted a skiff out to meet the
Ocracoke-bound mailboat to pick up
Portsmouth's letters and parcels. Lizzie
Pigott grew lovely flowers and cut
islanders' hair until a stroke confined her to
a wheelchair.
Like many others, the park service's
Heupel finds these vignettes of Portsmouth
life irresistible.
"I've read so much about the village
and the people, I think the people should be
there when I go," Heupel says. "I'm looking
for the lifesavers to be drilling. I'm looking
for Henry to be getting the mail. I'm
looking for the croquet matches to be going
on in front of the post office."
Portsmouth attracts about 700 visitors
a month in warm weather, a figure that has
steadily risen over the past few years. Some
of the increase is likely due to the growing
popularity of Ocracoke as a vacation spot.
A ferry service from Ocracoke is the only
practical means of transportation to
Portsmouth for the majority of visitors.
Heupel thinks some visitors are
seeking something besides an afternoon's
distraction.
"Lately people are looking for a
connection to the simpler times," she says.
"This is one of the places to find it."
Portsmouth in pleasant weather does
inspire wistful images of an uncomplicated
existence. The quaint yellow houses look so
cozy, the wide front porches are so inviting,
the birdsong on a sweet, salt-scented breeze
is so soothing. The church sanctuary is
serene and still, a hymn book open on the
organ's music stand.
Though Portsmouth life had its simple
appeals, it also had hardships. Most means
of livelihood — fishing, clamming, the
rescue service — could be difficult and
hazardous work.
As for housekeeping, the kerosene
cooking stoves burned hot enough to dictate
The establishment of a U.S. Life Saving Service station in 1894
brought a new mission to the village.
10 EARLY SUMMER 1999
summer kitchens that were separated from
the main houses. Screened dairy houses
were the only form of refrigeration.
Electricity via generators came late to
Portsmouth and only to a few homes. There
were gardens and livestock to tend, clothes
and fishing nets to make and mend, and
weather to contend with.
Winter winds can be bitter and
relentless. Hurricanes and nor'easters
periodically flood the village. The ferocious
storms are blamed for some of the exodus
from Portsmouth. A 1913 hurricane
destroyed the island's two churches.
The Methodist church, rebuilt the
following year, was left leaning after a 1944
storm that also sent water swirling nearly a
foot deep into Portsmouth living rooms. The
church leans less since the park service
recently straightened and stabilized the
foundation.
Though Portsmouth life had its simple
appeals, it also had hardships.
Most means of livelihood —
fishing, clamming, the rescue service —
could be difficult and hazardous work.
Though less dramatic than hurricanes,
the daily assault of salt air, sun and wind
takes a heavy toll on the aging buildings.
Portsmouth's main ally in the battle against
decay is Dave Frum, who spends three
days a week in Portsmouth as maintenance
man for Cape Lookout National Seashore.
"I'll never work myself out of a job,"
he says cheerfully. He is perhaps the
epitome of job satisfaction. He fell
instantly in love with Portsmouth on his
first visit long before he went to work there
eight years ago. Every day he spends
intensifies his affection.
"This is the prettiest place in the
world," he says. "Every day is an adven-
ture."
He patrols the lanes in an all-terrain
vehicle, tools at hand. He stops to hammer
a board on the side of the church, where
nails have crumbled to rust. "This is
historic preservation," he says.
On another front, he combats fast-
growing vegetation, kept at bay by
roaming livestock in Portsmouth's earlier
days. Frum recendy has cleared much
underbrush, restoring the view that
islanders once enjoyed. The clearing also
reduces the scourge of mosquitoes long
synonymous with Portsmouth. Every
island stoop used to bristle in summer with
leafy switches to brush away the bugs.
Frum commutes a half-hour by boat
from Ocracoke every Monday, Tuesday
and Wednesday. Winter on the water is
sometimes so harsh it mandates survival
gear. He doesn't mind.
"When I leave on Wednesday," he
says, "I can't wait until I come back on
Monday."
He ponders for a moment why
Portsmouth has such a pull on him, and on
others. "I have the feeling there's the spirit
of 200 years here," he finally says. "It feels
so calm in a busy world."
Cape Lookout National Seashore
enlists help from other quarters in keeping
the structures intact. Several homes are
leased to individuals to use as vacation
retreats. Besides a few thousand dollars per
year in rent, the long-term agreements
require leaseholders to maintain and
improve the buildings.
The Friends of Portsmouth Island also
works with the park service to preserve
village buildings. The group plans to
restore the church windows. The park
service recently rehabilitated the exterior of
the post office; the friends group will
refurbish the interior.
The Friends of Portsmouth Island
coalesced about a decade ago, says current
president Chester Lynn of Ocracoke.
Continued
COASTWATCH 11
Membership is
estimated at 300.
Several of
Portsmouth's
former residents
belong. Other
members, like
Lynn, are kin to
Portsmouth
families. The
remainder have
no connection
except a
fondness for the place and a fascination
with the way life was.
"A lot of people love the area, love the
history," he says. Lynn recalls many
childhood trips to Portsmouth. His
grandfather was part owner of a mailboat
that served Ocracoke and Portsmouth. His
great-grandmother, Helen Dixon, was bom
on Portsmouth. Her Dec. 23, 1889,
marriage to James Fulcher of Ocracoke is
recorded in the family Bible. "Eight boats
returned to Ocracoke, tied together in a
wedding chain," Lynn reads from the entry.
Lynn spends his spare time searching
for cemeteries and individual gravestones
he suspects are still hidden in the thick
underbrush.
"The history on those tombstones is
priceless," he says.
Besides helping with preservation of
the physical Portsmouth, the group aims to
sustain the essence of the village by
recording the stories of former residents. It
hosts a meeting every spring and fall on
Ocracoke, and a homecoming on Ports-
mouth every other year.
Though it has no permanent residents,
Portsmouth is occupied by at least one
person during the warmer seasons, also
intent on preservation. In exchange for a
firm commitment of three months of repair
and maintenance work, unpaid caretakers
get shelter in the lifesaving station's former
summer kitchen — and an incomparable
experience, at least for those who savor
solitude and seclusion. Such solitude,
tinged with a certain loneliness, is the
Like these sea captains' gravestones, Portsmouth is a testimonial to generations past.
The church bells chime,
sounded by a tug on a rope, speaks of
weekly respites to give thanks and
gather strength. A creaky hinge
on the post office door recounts when it
was a portal to the entire outside world.
shadow of Portsmouth's past personality,
an atmosphere that still cloaks the island.
Richard Meissner, a retired English
teacher from Asheboro, spent a spring of
constant captivation at Portsmouth. He
recalls a day when he was to meet Frum at
the park service dock.
"I went out to the pier to wait for him.
I took a book because I didn't know just
when he'd be there. I got fascinated with
some oyster catchers there by the dock. I
don't know how long I waited for him.
Thirty minutes? Two hours? I don't have a
clue," Meissner says. "I never read a word
of my book. That's how it is. There's
always
something to
do. There are
birds. There
are sunsets.
There are stars
to look at."
The
present-day
Portsmouth is
both sweet and
sad to people
like Jessie Lee
Babb Dominique, who remember when
friends and family made the silent
buildings a community. Though it brings
tears to her eyes, she comes to visit as often
as she can manage the trip. Much of the
journey, as in the past is by boat.
At other times, at her house in
Beaufort, she is surrounded by reminders
of Portsmouth people held dear — her
great aunt's mail-order rocking chair, her
mother's sewing machine, a vase that
belonged to her friend Miss Hub — and
memories of Portsmouth.
'There's never a day that I don't think
of home," she says. "It was home, and it is
home and it will always be home." □
Portsmouth Village is accessible only
by boat. Contact Cape lookout National
Seashore, headquartered in Harkers
Island, for information on park service
concessions that provide ferry services
from Ocracoke, or kayak and all-terrain
vehicle expeditions. Phone: 252/728-2250.
The transportation services charge a fee,
but there is no charge to visit Portsmouth.
The Methodist church, a visitors'
center in the Dixon-Salter house and
the Life Saving Station are the only
buildings presently open to the public.
The only facilities in Portsmouth are
solar toilets. Visitors should dress for
the elements, wear sturdy walking
shoes, and bring drinking water and
other provisions. Sunscreen and insect
repellent are also recommended in
warm weather.
12 EARLY SUMMER 1999
hen Jessie Lee Babb Dominique
was born Aug. 2, 1927, Portsmouth was
still a going concern of about 100 people.
But its future was cast. She was the last
baby bom in the village.
In her childhood Portsmouth,
family and friends were close. Her
mother, Lillian Dixon Babb, had two
sisters and a brother who lived
together down the lane. Her father,
Jesse Babb, was in the Coast Guard.
"I spent a lot of time with older
people," Dominique recalls. "I would get
up in the morning and say, 'I think I'll go
spend the day with Miss Hub.'" Miss Hub
was Annie Hubbard Styron, who with her
husband, Jody Styron, and her brother,
Tom Bragg, operated a hunting
lodge. Tom Bragg taught her to fish
and tell time, Dominique recalls.
When she was a little older,
Dominique helped in the kitchen,
preparing supper for the sportsmen.
The Babb home was among
the first to have electricity,
furnished by a generator. Jesse
Babb also wired the nearby
Methodist church for generator
electric lights.
Once a month, a minister from
Ocracoke came by mailboat to
preach, staying over the weekend
because of the boat schedule.
"We'd have him for three days,"
Dominique says. In between,
islanders held their own Sunday
school.
She remembers weekday
gatherings at the post office,
awaiting the mail. Portsmouth
relied on mail-order for everything
residents couldn't make, grow or catch,
and the mailboat was the primary means of
transportation to and from the mainland.
In earlier times, the boat, which also
served Ocracoke, tied up at a fish factory
dock on Casey's Island just off Ports-
mouth, and the goods were ferried ashore.
After the dock deteriorated, Portsmouth's
letters and parcels and travelers were
transferred to the mailman's skiff in mid-
channel.
Memories
of Home
Iran
Portsmouth's
Last Baby
By Julie Ann Powers
Portsmouth is still home for Jessie Lee Babb Dominique.
Henry Pigott was the last mailman.
Henry and his sister, Lizzie, were the only
blacks on the island, descendents of the
slaves who worked in the early
Portsmouth's shipping industry. Lizzie
Pigott was known for cutting hair and
growing flowers.
'1 loved them dearly," Dominique
says, and recalls many days at Lizzie's side
as a child.
"After supper she would take a bath
and put on a freshly starched and ironed
dress — those were the old hand irons,
heated on the stove," Dominique remem-
bers. "And she would smell so good. She
would walk down to our house, and they
would play croquet."
The one-room school, built in
the 1920s, once had an enrollment
of 45. But Dominique was among
just three who attended the last term
in 1943. Her classmates, children of
Coast Guardsmen stationed on the
island during World War II, moved away
that summer, and the school closed. Her
parents didn't want to send their youngest
daughter to Ocracoke, so Dominique
forewent the last year of high school.
Two years later, she left Portsmouth -
for New York City. Her oldest
sister Edna had married a Coast
Guardsman from New York, and
the young family went to the big
city when his service in Portsmouth
was over. To keep her sister
company in the new surroundings,
the teen-aged Dominique traveled
alone by boat and bus and train to
New York. She stayed two years,
working in a pocketbook factory
and later as a bookkeeper for Talon
Zipper Co.
Meanwhile, her parents
moved to Beaufort. Dominique
went to work in a Morehead City
restaurant when she returned to
North Carolina, where she met her
future husband, Robert Dominique,
a Coast Guardsman, in 1948.
Her mother later returned to
live in Portsmouth, and is buried on
the island. Dominique's other
sister, Marian Gray Babb, also returned to
Portsmouth. Babb, who died in 1993. and
her aunt Elma Dixon, who died in 1990,
were the last residents of Portsmouth. Their
reluctant departure from the island in 1971
was the end of an era.
But not, Dominique and other former
residents insist, the end of Portsmouth,
which persists in spirit among those who
lived there and love it still.
"We won't let it die," she says. □
COASTWATCH 13
a quiet residential neighborhood ot a large
city, with nice lawns and big trees. One
day someone buys the vacant lot next
door, and pretty soon the new owner digs
up all the wildflowers and puts in a
racetrack. Or a chemical factory. Or a
disco.
This is unlikely to happen, of course.
And if it did, you'd probably have plenty
of legal recourse against your annoying
new neighbor. In cities and towns, land-
use planning and zoning laws mitigate
conflicts between residents and businesses,
and they help keep go-cart tracks, factories
and discos separate from private homes.
Now imagine this: You buy a
beautiful house looking out over a quiet
coastal river. Soon you've got noisy boats
zooming past your house all day long.
What can you do? In many cases, the
answer is "nothing."
Land-use planning arose in the
United States in the 1920s, as an increas-
ing population and limited land area
forced people to search for ways to allow
multiple uses for land while keeping
conflicts over noise and pollution to a
minimum. Now, as society becomes more
and more complex, zoning and planning
confue land uses to different areas, so
potentially disruptive activities won't
disturb others' enjoyment of private
property.
As recreational and commercial uses
of public waters skyrocket, there is no
similar strategy for preventing conflict.
Water skiers, shellfish-lease owners,
fishers and waders jostle one another for
space in North Carolina's creeks and
sounds. As a result, boating accidents,
complaints from waterside residents,
disturbance of animals and their habitat,
degradation of water quality and boat
wake-induced erosion are on the rise. Is
water-use planning and zoning an answer?
Yes, says North Carolina Sea Grant
legal and policy specialist Walter Clark.
But North Carolina is a long way from the
kind of comprehensive water-use planning
that he envisions. "So far, we're Band-
Aiding specific problems as they arise,"
Clark says.
Noisy Nuisances and
Crowded Creeks
Personal watercraft (PWC) and other
noisy recreational boats are among the
most prolific causes of water-use conflicts
in North Carolina, and often prompt a
municipality's first attempts at zoning. In
Nags Head, the town petitioned the state
for extra-territorial jurisdiction extending
The people out there are more comfort-
able."
Nags Head has also banned air boats,
which can be heard miles from where they
are being operated. "They were our biggest
area of complaint," says Bortz.
With a grant from the N.C. Division
of Coastal Management, Nags Head is
now processing data from a 1998 survey
Though North Carolina lacks a comprehensive water-use zoning strategy,
it does designate no-wake zones and areas that are closed to shellfishing.
one mile into Roanoke Sound. The town
now zones in two areas divided by the
Nags Head causeway. "If it can be zoned,
we zone it," says Bruce Bortz, the Nags
Head town planner.
Recently, the town passed a local
ordinance banning commercial rental
PWC from coming within 600 feet of
shore and limiting local businesses to
renting eight PWC at a time. For the 1 998
summer season, the ordinance meant that
only 56 PWC could be on the water at
once, down from 229 total units available
in 1997.
"Practically speaking, the establish-
ments could only rent 10 to 12 units per
hour (before)," says Bortz. But with fewer
rentals and the 600-foot buffer between
PWC and the shore, "It's less hectic now.
designed to determine the recreational
"carrying capacity" of Nags Head waters.
Like many coastal communities, Nags
Head depends on tourism and on water-
based activities for a thriving economy.
Overcrowding and conflict in nearby
waters could drive tourists away and hurt
the town's businesses.
The survey used a questionnaire
developed by a private consulting firm to
explore vacationers' attitudes toward the
numbers of PWC, power boats, sailboards.
kayaks, swimmers and fishers in area
waters. Most people interviewed were
vacationing in Nags Head, and few found
the waters too crowded to be enjoyable.
The results suggest that the current limit on
PWC rentals is appropriate. Bortz says that
Continued
COASTWATCH 15
With personal watercraft, powerboats and sailboards in the water at once,
boating safety becomes a top priority.
the Nags Head Board of Commissioners
will also review the consultants' recom-
mendations.
Another focus of contention in coastal
municipalities has been the increasing
number of free-standing moorings. Boats
that moor in narrow creeks can prevent
local residents from enjoying a view of the
open water, interfere with navigation and
impede riparian access — the right of
shoreline property owners to reach deep
water from land.
Jane Daughtridge, district planner
with the Division of Coastal Management
in Washington, says that marinas some-
times try to increase their commercial
capacity by adding free-standing moorings
in the public trust areas. Other conflicts
may arise when transient boaters attempt to
place permanent moorings in unauthorized
areas or when residential property owners
attempt to use their riparian water rights for
supplemental income by renting out their
moorings to others.
In 1995, the N.C. Coastal Resources
Commission (CRC) adopted a Coastal
Area Management Act (CAMA) regula-
tion limiting free-standing moorings in the
20 coastal counties: Boat owners may
moor only in front of their own shoreline
property, or in mooring fields that have
been sited by the local government.
Several cities in the Washington district
have since passed additional ordinances to
ban free-standing moorings altogether. In
Bath and Belhaven, town officials have
used their jurisdiction over inland waters to
pass such bans. They also prevent transient
boaters from anchoring in their waters for
more than seven days.
Bath trailblazed this kind of local
zoning for moorings, says Marty Fulton,
town clerk. The town's zoning jurisdiction
includes the water to the mouth of Bath
Creek. "A number of other local govern-
ments have called to see how we did it,"
she continues. They want to replicate the
language of the ordinance.
The ordinance helps the small town
foster its historical image, Daughtridge
says. The ban keeps Bath's harbor
picturesque and uncluttered.
Other municipalities depend on high-
volume water traffic and a welcoming
harbor for transient boaters. If cities want to
allow boats to continue to moor, they can
designate a mooring site and petition the
state for a mooring field permit. To date,
this is the only case in which the state
requires a water-use plan before granting a
request.
Beaufort is the first town to receive
such a permit, and the process took two and
a half years to complete. "Sailboats
anchoring in front of Beaufort are a big
tourist attraction," says John Young,
director of public works for the town of
Beaufort. "People come out here just to
look at the boats." The new mooring field
will allow Beaufort to maintain the fleet of
boats regularly anchoring in Taylor Creek
and prevent the demise of a long-standing
attraction for out-of-town visitors.
In July, the town hopes to begin
installing the mooring field, which will
provide 66 temporary and permanent
moorings for boats up to 45 feet long. 'It
will be a municipal mooring field," Young
says. Beaufort police will keep track of
resident vessels and make sure boat owners
follow regulations.
The city's water-use plan, which was
developed as part of the permit application,
includes a lock-head policy to prevent boats
from dumping sewage, an environmental-
impact assessment and a description of the
shore facilities available to boat owners,
such as pump-out facilities, showers, trash
containers and oil-recycling facilities.
Clark, Sea Grant's policy specialist,
was pleased to learn of the breadth of the
plan. "The intent of the regulation was to
encourage local governments to think about
where moorings would cause the least
disruption of other uses without banning
moorings altogether." He sees this type of
planning as a harbinger of things to come.
"If different uses are going to coexist in
crowded waters, then it will be a necessity."
A Model Plan for
North Carolina
For water-use planning to succeed,
Clark believes the state will need to work
closely with local governments in setting
broad but flexible guidelines for the CAMA
counties. The state will also need to provide
funding to help local governments with
their increased planning responsibility.
"Right now we don't have grant money to
give counties to undertake large-scale
planning," Clark says.
But in 1990, the Albemarle-Pamlico
Estuarine Study (APES), which is under-
written by the U.S. Environmental
Protection Agency, solicited proposals to
examine management options for water
use. Clark received funding to develop a
model water-use plan for Carteret County, a
fast-growing coastal county blessed with a
rich abundance of natural resources.
Carteret County citizens were
extremely interested and involved in the
plan from the beginning, Clark says. The
county planner worked closely with Clark,
and he consulted an advisory board made
up of Carteret County regulators and water
users. But when the plan was complete,
Clark says, "they weren't ready to imple-
16 EARLY SUMMER 1999
ment it. The need for it wasn't there yet; it
was too early." If conflicts then had been as
heavy as they are now, he continues, the
story might be different.
Like other counties subject to CAMA,
Carteret is required to develop its own
land-use plans based on general state
guidelines. But CAMA does not mandate
formal water-use planning, even though
the state emphasizes the importance of
managing water areas in preserving coastal
resources.
Clark's model plan proposed a water-
use planning structure that followed the
pattern of existing land-use planning
practices. First, Clark examined local, state
and federal laws, regulations and ordi-
nances that applied to the county's
estuarine waters and shoreline. Then, using
Geographic Information System (GIS)
technology, Clark classified the county's
waters and suggested regulations for their
use that would not conflict with pre-
existing laws.
The planning strategy differed from
the land-use planning model in one
significant way. "Public waters are state-
owned," he explains, while land is usually
under private ownership. Technically, the
state owns most of North Carolina's
coastal creeks, rivers, estuaries and sounds
— and the ocean waters to a distance of
three miles offshore — and holds them in
trust for the public. The state has the
responsibility to act as steward for these
waters and to regulate their use, but it can
pass some of that authority to local
governments.
Right now the CRC requires land-use
plans for North Carolina's 20 coastal
counties, but the plans have historically
stopped at the water's edge, ignoring the
large aquatic areas included within many
counties' jurisdictional boundaries. Clark
suggests that the planning process be
extended to cover the water as well.
Combined plans like these would
require counties and municipalities to think
about appropriate uses for water and would
mean increased cooperation between land
and water activities. Regulations could
affect the siting of new marinas or public
boat ramps, and could work with habitat
management plans to protect environments
critical for juvenile fish or crabs. Proactive
plans that take into account both water-
based and shoreline activities could help
predict and prevent future water-use
conflicts.
In the model plan for Carteret County,
for example, Clark surveyed existing water
resources and uses — like beds of
submerged aquatic vegetation, navigation
channels, recreational and commercial
fishing areas, and high-population
shorelines — in order to classify water
areas. The North Carolina Center for
Geographic Information and Analysis
digitized the data from the survey as a
series of "layers" that could be mapped and
overlapped to provide intersections
between various water uses.
By using GIS to view all the layers at
once, Clark could determine which areas of
Carteret County were already heavily
developed and which needed special
protection because of environmental
importance. Classifying and mapping
specific water areas in this way would assist
local governments in designating areas for
certain policies to apply. Advisory boards
and public hearings would help kx:al
governments determine their individual
water-use goals and to develop policies
mandating those goals. But without
leadership from the state, it's hard for local
governments to formulate wide-reaching
water-use plans, Clark says.
Daughtridge, with the DCM, agrees to
some extent: "Most local governments
don't have the resources or GIS capacity to
do in-depth analyses." But, she adds, there
is funding available for certain water-use
projects.
"CAMA does have a beach and
waterfront access grant program to help
local governments acquire or develop
waterfront properties to get the pedestrian
public to the water," Daughtridge says.
Local governments could also use
CAMA's planning and management grants
to develop detailed water-management
plans if they chose. Grant offerings are sent
to local governments in early spring.
Con! i n u e d
Boats of all sizes pass through North Carolina 's waters;
a new CAMA regulation dictates where they may anchor.
COASTWATCH 17
Strategies in Other States
The water-use plan Clark outlined for
Carteret County was designed to fit into
North Carolina's existing legal structure, but
other states have handled conflicts in their
waters differently. "We have a more
regulatory way of dealing with things,"
Clark says. "In Virginia, they're taking a
more educational, proactive approach."
"We have to focus on education," says
Hugo Valverde, environmental planner for
the Hampton Roads Planning District
Commission and graduate of Duke
University's Coastal Environmental
Management Program. "Virginia is a
'Dillon Rule' state, which means that a
locality only has powers that are expressly
In a recent study, Michael Orbach, right,
surveyed shellfish-lease owners and fishers
to identify traditional water uses and to help
classify water areas for possible zoning.
given to it by statutes from the state. We
can't ban Jet Skis." North Carolina is also a
Dillon Rule state, but its General Assembly
traditionally has granted local governments
more freedom.
"Right now we're looking at the North
Landing River, which drains from Virginia
Beach into the Currituck Sound of North
Carolina," says Valverde. The commission
hopes to get groups of water users and
regulators — including state and local
boating agencies, the Nature Conservancy,
wildlife refuge managers, the Coast Guard
and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers —
to look at conflicts between users and to
come up with a memorandum of agreement
that provides guidelines or visions for
participants to follow. But
instead of regulating the water
uses, Virginia municipalities will
have to rely on improving their
educational programs.
"Many people just don't
know the boating safety rules or
the environmental impacts of
what they do on the water," says
Valverde. "For boating education
and boating safety classes, we'd
like to add a section on environ-
mental impacts of boating." Such
revised courses might teach
boaters how to recognize and
avoid environmentally sensitive
areas, in addition to clarifying
boating regulations, no-wake
zones and noise laws.
Educational programs for
PWC drivers are already in the
works. "In Virginia Beach, the
Virginia Marine Science
Museum is working on a Jet Ski
education program about sea
turtles and dolphins" so people
will know not to approach or
harass the animals, Valverde
says. "There's a breeding area for
dolphins off Virginia Beach."
And Virginia can pass
water-zoning laws — they just
have to come from the state
level. In response to several
PWC-related accidents,
lawmakers from Virginia Beach
have recently initiated legislation that allows
localities to limit the horsepower of PWC
offered for rent, says Valverde.
Last year, the Virginia General
Assembly also passed laws that allowed
localities to establish minimum standards for
insurance carried by PWC rental agencies,
raised the minimum PWC operator age
from 14 to 16 and required those who are in
the business of renting PWC to pass a
boating safety course. PWC rental agencies
are also required to instruct renters on safe
boating practices.
Virginia is one of only a few Dillon
Rule states; many other states, including
those on the West Coast, place a greater
emphasis on regulation as a way to reduce
conflict and protect and maintain their
coastal waters. In Washington, one of the
states Clark turned to for guidance in
developing his model water-use plan, the
Shoreline Management Act (SMA) covers
all the state's major waters, shores and
wetlands and establishes broad guidelines
for local governments to follow in develop-
ing their own shoreline master programs.
Washington's SMA gives preference
to coastline and water uses that protect water
quality and the natural environment, depend
on proximity to the water, and preserve
public access to the water or increase public
recreational opportunities along the coast.
Local governments' shoreline master
programs are based on these guidelines but
may be tailored for the particular geography,
economy and environment of each city or
county. Local municipalities regulate water
uses, but the state reviews local programs
and makes permit decisions.
Local jurisdictions that want to
improve their shoreline master programs or
increase public access may also apply for
money from Washington's Coastal Zone
Management grant program. Funds are
administered by the National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and by the
state's Department of Ecology. In the past,
grant monies have been used to revitalize
crumbling waterfronts, collect data on
critical wetland and estuarine habitats, and
sponsor educational programs about coastal
systems or shoreline management regula-
tions.
18 EARLY SUMMER 1999
Different water areas are much more
likely to be recognized and zoned in
Washington's water-use strategy. Under
the Washington state constitution, harbor
areas are to be delineated and reserved for
navigation and commerce. The planning
department for the city of Bainbridge Island
recently implemented a harbor manage-
ment plan that encompasses the island's
four major harbors, listing objectives for
each harbor and specific policies to meet
those objectives. And in San Juan County,
comprised of 400 islands and the surround-
ing 440 square miles of marine waters, the
local government has just become the first
in the country to ban the use of PWC
altogether, except for through traffic and
emergencies.
North Carolina's Future
Today, North Carolina's plans for
reducing conflict in our waters include
neither an educational strategy like
Virginia's nor a planning scheme as
complex and powerful as Washington's.
The level of conflict doesn't warrant a
comprehensive plan at this point, says
Clark, but the conflicts are intensifying.
Landowners along the shore want riparian
access to deeper waters and the right to
build docks and piers, which can interfere
with the public's desire to use the same
water for water-skiing or fishing. Shellfish
leases granted by the state compete with
recreational and commercial fishers who
gather clams and oysters from wild beds.
Right now, the state has an opportu-
nity to think ahead on the issue of water-use
planning. Michael Orbach, the director of
Duke University Marine Laboratory, has
teamed up with the N.C. Division of
Marine Fisheries (DMF) to map the human
uses of Core Sound, a site of particular
contention between shellfish lease owners
and other fishers.
Though the state owns the public trust
waters and the lands lying underneath
them, it leases bottom plots to individuals
who want to culture shellfish there. In
recent years, the shellfish lease program has
been expanded to include the water column
above the shellfish bed, so that aquacultur-
ists can use more profitable off-bottom
Crowded shores like this one call attention to the multiple uses of our coastal waters.
racks and cages for growing clams or
oysters.
"This is controversial because the state
is granting exclusive rights to public trust
property," says Orbach. "Wild shellfish
gatherers feel that shellfish leases compete
with them for space, markets and prices."
Two years ago, the conflict over
shellfish leases in Core Sound became so
hostile that the state legislature put a
moratorium on new leases in the area. That
moratorium has now been extended to July
1 and may be extended for yet another year.
While the DMF decided to map the
shellfish resources in Core Sound in an
effort to find solutions to the problem,
Orbach thought the conflict represented a
human-use conflict more than a conflict
over resources. He applied for a grant from
the division to expand their project to
include a map of human uses of Core
Sound. From the results of the mapping
projects, Orbach hopes to develop a user-
coordination plan for the sound that would
prevent conflict between various user
groups.
In many ways, Orbach' s study mirrors
Clark's plan for Carteret County: "Walter's
project provided some of the ideas that
spawned this project," says Orbach.
Researchers have surveyed the historical
and contemporary uses of Core Sound, and
last summer they surveyed recreational and
commercial fishers on their uses of the
water and their attitudes toward other users.
The resulting data is being plotted into GIS
maps for comparison with the data from
DMF's Shellfish Mapping Program.
"Right now, Fisheries is finishing with
their part on shellfish resources," Orbach
says. He hopes the project will be com-
pleted by late June, when the DMF will
present a final report to the N.C. General
Assembly. It will be up to the state to
decide how to act on the report; its decision
could mark a major first step in North
Carolina's development of water-use
planning strategy.
"Currently, there's an indefinite
moratorium (on new shellfish leases) on
the east side of the sound and a temporary
moratorium on the west side," Orbach
says. "The legislature could take the whole
moratorium off .... put a cap on the
percentage of the bottom available for
leases, restrict leases to certain locations or
kick the issue back to the Division of
Marine Fisheries to develop rules for
shellfish leases under specific guidelines."
Such guidelines might include promoting
aquaculture, protecting commercial and
recreational fish harvests, and preventing
conflict between users.
Traditionally, North Carolinians
haven't seen the water as something that
needs to be zoned. The state's waters are
plentiful and bountiful; it's hard to imagine
a time when the water will be too crowded,
noisy or polluted to enjoy. Still, that time
may be fast approaching. Thousands more
visitors flock to North Carolina's shores
every year, and increased tourism means
more people sunning on our beaches,
swimming in our sounds and boating in
our ocean waters.
"We have so much in North Carolina:
our sounds, our coastal rivers," says Clark.
"Until recently, we didn't have a lot of
people using them. Basic rules and
regulations used to be enough to keep
people from bumping into each other. But
now we need structure." □
COASTWATCH 19
Hatteras History
on the Move:
Lighthouse Relocation in Progress
By Katie
M o she r
Photographs
by Michael
H a I m i n s k i
20 EARLY SUMMER 1999
s
ince 1 870, the Cape Hatteras
lighthouse has been a symbol of the North
Carolina coast.
Its candy-cane stripes inspire
countless painters, poets and trinket-
makers. The lighthouse also inspires a
fierce debate on erosion-control efforts.
Proposals to move the lighthouse
arose at least a decade ago, in an effort to
save it from the encroaching sea. Earlier
this year, despite a continuing court battle,
the moving process began.
The keepers' quarters were the first to
be lifted and trucked to the new site, nearly
3,000 feet to the southwest. In early March,
the beacon was shut off as workers from
International Chimney Company of
Buffalo, N.Y., began separating the tower
from its foundation.
Dare County officials, along with the
Save the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse
Committee, lost their court challenge to the
relocation. The National Park Service
expects to have the 4,800-ton tower lifted
onto dollies in May. The slow roll to the
new site — the culmination of the $12
million project — is expected in June and
July.
When first built, the Hatteras light
stood 1 ,500 feet from the sea. By the
1930s, steel groins and barrier sand dunes
were added to protect the lighthouse from
the ocean water only 100 feet from the
foundation.
The lighthouse was transferred from
the U.S. Coast Guard to the National Park
Service in 1936 as its days as a ship-saver
seemed doomed. The Coast Guard
reactivated the beacon in 1950 as the beach
area stabilized through combined efforts of
man and nature.
But the erosion-control efforts were
far from over. By the 1970s, various
strategies were employed to protect the
lighthouse, including sand-filled nylon
bags, beach renourishment and three
concrete groins.
Continued
TOP:
The principal
keepers '
quarters
move to a
new site.
MIDDLE:
Extensive
foundation
preparation
is required
before the
move.
BOTTOM:
A diamond
cutting saw,
lubricated
with water,
extends
around the
foundation.
TOP:
Site manager
Skellie Hunt
surveys the
foundation
work.
MIDDLE:
Braces support
the lighthouse
prior to the
move.
BOTTOM:
This aerial,
looking south,
shows the
current
lighthouse
location and
the move
corridor to the
new site,
nearly 3,000
feet to the
southwest.
The 1980s were marked by damaging
storms and a controversial report by the
National Academy of Sciences recom-
mending that the lighthouse be moved. The
debate continued through the 1990s.
Congress eventually approved funds
for the relocation, which is attracting
worldwide attention. The park service
expects the lighthouse will reopen for
public use by Memorial Day 2000.
But moving the lighthouse will not
quell the debate on erosion control for the
Hatteras Island beaches, according to
Spencer Rogers, North Carolina Sea Grant
coastal engineering specialist.
"The issue of maintaining a groin
field will not go away," Rogers says.
Some people believe the groins —
walls built into the sea perpendicular to the
beach, in an effort to trap sand and stall
erosion — have protected homes and
businesses in Buxton.
The park service does not plan to
maintain the groins. If a hurricane or
nor'easter pummels the structures,
damaging them more than 50 percent,
residents and county officials could be sent
scrambling. State regulations do not allow
for new construction or replacement of
hardened structures on the oceanfront.
"The guidelines are pretty clear," says
Steve Benton of the N.C. Division of
Coastal Management.
Exceptions have been made to protect
historical structures, such as Fort Fisher
and the Hatteras lighthouse. But if the
Hatteras landmark is no longer vulnerable,
the issue will be placed in a new light, m
For more information on the Cape
Hatteras lighthouse relocation schedule,
call the National Park Service visitors'
center at 252/995-4474 or check the
park's Web site at www.nps.gov/caha/
lrp.htm.
PEOPLE
& PLACES
North Carolina
Estuanum
Showcases Sights and Sounds of an Ecosystem
A
By Ann Green • Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
motorists rush across
eastern North Caro-
lina to the barrier
island beaches, they
often forget about the
magic and mystique
of swamps, rivers and
sounds.
Along the dark,
winding Tar River,
frogs croak on the
muddy banks.
Further down on the
brackish Pamlico
River, osprey whistle
over the thick, tall
rushes. Underneath
the shallow waters of the Pamlico Sound,
speckled trout chatter and purr when
calling for mates.
The bountiful marine life and plants
are part of the vast ecosystem of the
Albemarle-Pamlico estuarine system,
which includes the Albemarle and Pamlico
sounds and the surrounding waterways
and tributaries. The system stretches over
2.2 million acres of water, making it the
second largest estuarine system in the
United States after the Chesapeake Bay.
More than 90 percent of the seafood
caught by North Carolina fishers spends
at least part of its life in estuaries.
The North Carolina Estuarium
showcases the sights and sounds of the
The North Carolina Estuarium offers a glimpse into a unique region.
ecosystem and demonstrates how human
life impacts the system.
Located in downtown Washington on
a picturesque site overlooking the Pamlico
River, the 12,500-square-foot facility
opened in January 1998. It is the first
aquarium in North Carolina to focus
exclusively on the state's estuaries. The
only other estuarium in the United States is
at the Dauphin Island Sea Laboratory near
Mobile, Ala.
The North Carolina facility is
operated by the Partnership for the Sounds,
a nonprofit group striving to build a
prosperous economic base for the
Albemarle-Pamlico region by promoting
ecotourism and environmental education.
To encourage
the protection of
North Carolina's
estuarine system, the
building is packed
with a variety of
educational
experiences, from
films to interactive
exhibits.
"The environ-
ment and health of
the environment is
important to the
quality of life and
public health in
North Carolina,"
says Jackie Peoples
Woolard, director of the Partnership for the
Sounds in Columbia. "When we bring
school kids into the estuarium, we are
planting a seed for a more healthy
environment and more environmentally
responsible citizens. It's investing in the
future of North Carolina to take care of our
environment."
To stimulate interest in the state's
estuary system, an interactive wire and
driftwood sculpture dominates the lobby.
Designed by Washington native Whiting
Toler, the "Water Droplet Pinball"
sculpture shows the water cycle from
North Carolina's mountains to the
piedmont and down to the coastal sounds.
Continued
COASTWATCH 23
PEOPLE
& PLACES
An old wooden "sinkbox" showcases a bygone era,
After a guide pulls a launching
device, a pinball action shoots a ball
through a funnel cloud onto a track where
it starts the evaporation process. The water
condenses and forms raindrops as it heads
over land, represented by driftwood
collected from the coast after hurricanes.
The rain water continues through the
mountains and the Piedmont, then into the
coastal river where it mixes with salt water
to form estuaries. The cycle ends in the
ocean.
"The whole process is Mother
Nature's way of recycling water," says
Randy Rouse, exhibits curator at the
estuarium. "It is a whole purification
process of water being reused. The flow of
water is important to the well-being of
aquatic life in the whole system."
Near the lobby is a 60-seat auditorium
where you can watch a 15-minute film
with breathtaking scenery — from
waterfowl flying over a dark river to a
sunset sail on a sound. You can also listen
to the rush of water, the roar of a thunder-
storm and Red Clay Rambler Bland
Simpson singing "Home on the River."
The film whets your appetite for a boating
adventure through an estuary.
"We are trying to give people an
emotional sense of an estuary," says
24 EARLY SUMMER 1999
Blount
Rumley,
estuarium
facilities
administra-
tor. "Many
people have
driven by
and sailed
through
estuaries
with no real
understand-
ing of its
impact on
people's
lives and the
maritime
and seafood
industry. We want North Carolina's estuary
system to be appreciated and preserved."
After seeing the film, you can
participate in a variety of interactive
exhibits showcasing the Tar-Pamlico
Watershed, Pamlico River and Pamlico
Sound. By touching a button, you can hear
a seagull laughing or shrimp snapping like
frying bacon. You can also feel a sharp
model of sedges, rushes and grasses. To
show that estuaries are formed when fresh
and salt water mix, visitors can taste
concentrations of salt water from the ocean,
brackish water from estuaries and fresh
water from inland rivers.
Wander farther back and view live
critters in their natural habitats. One
aquarium holds blue crabs. The other
houses tiny flounder disguised so well in
sand that it takes a sharp eye to find them.
You also can view numerous artifacts
and photos, including ballast bottles and
binoculars from shipwrecks off the North
Carolina coast.
The oldest artifact is a dugout canoe
remnant that dates back 2,400 years. The
canoe, used by Native Americans, was
Right: The Tar-Pamlico Region and
Tar River exhibits feature a variety
of aquatic animals and plants.
discovered on the bottom of Lake Phelps in
Pettigrew State Park in the mid-1980s.
Keep exploring and you find another
treasured artifact — an old wooden
"sinkbox" once used by duck hunters in
eastern North Carolina. The deck of the
sinkbox floated at water level, allowing
hunters to hide below the surface in the
"coffin." With decoys set nearby, the hunter
would await an incoming flock and then fire
as the birds flew by.
The sinkbox hid hunters so well that
the state outlawed its use, says Rumley.
To get a close-up of life on the water,
you can watch a short film featuring a local
fisher, trapper and others. Ann Braddy, a
Pungo Creek crabber, describes her long
workday. "I fish 400 crab pots," she says.
"My days start at 4:30 and end at 9 or 10.
Sometimes you circle. Sometimes you
straight line."
Kirby Avery, a Bath trapper, sums up
the animals' role in the ecosystem. "The best
teachers are animals," he says. "They go
slower and tell more about their habitats."
Other exhibits take a hard look at how
humans can damage estuaries. In the "Signs
of Stress" display, a large mural of an
Ocracoke marshland is fragmented to show
its vulnerability to human impact. Another
PEOPLE
& PLACES
exhibit focuses on general types of
pollution — from toxic chemicals to
sediment.
After leaving the building, you can
stroll on a 75-foot boardwalk overlooking
the Pamlico River. In the distance, cypress,
oak and gum trees outline Castie Island,
used for docking steamers during the Civil
War.
The estuarium was conceived by local
citizens and Washington town officials in
the early 1990s when they began a
fundraising drive. After the Partnership for
the Sounds formed in 1993, the group took
over the project.
The partnership grew out of four
grassroots movements. "A handful of
community leaders from Tyrrell, Hyde,
Beaufort and Bertie counties were all trying
to promote environmental projects on their
own," says Woolard. "Jonathan Howes
(former secretary of the N.C. Department
of Environment and Natural Resources)
recognized that everyone had a single
mission and suggested forming a group for
the region."
The new coalition developed a plan to
stimulate the local economy in the
Albemarle-Pamlico region through nature-
based tourism and unique environmental
TV
TAR RIVER
education centers.
The Albemarle-
Pamlico region is
one of 28 compo-
nents in the National
Estuary Program,
which encourages
local communities to
take responsibility
for water quality and
environmental
problems. Adminis-
tered by the U.S.
Environmental
Protection Agency
in agreement with
the N.C. Department
of Environment and
Natural Resources,
the Albemarle-
Pamlico National
Estuary Program has
offices in Raleigh
and Washington.
"The ecology of the region is unique,"
says Woolard. "There is a mystique to the
swamps, wetlands and creeks. They are
undiscovered by people. Because the
estuaries are off the beaten path, you get a
one-on-one connection with the environ-
ment."
The estuarium, which has received
state funding, is the only partnership
facility built from scratch. Since the facility
opened last year, more than 19,704 people
have toured the exhibits. "It is the gateway
to the entire Albemarle-Pamlico region,"
says Woolard. "After visiting it people can
move on to other facilities in different
counties. All our facilities offer different
ecological experiences."
The oldest facility is Lake
Mattamuskeet Lodge in New Holland,
built in 1916 as a pump house and later
used as a hunting lodge. After shutting
down in 1974, it reopened in 1995 as a
research and education center on migratory
waterfowl.
Columbia is the home of the newly
opened Columbia Theater Cultural
Facilities administrator Blount Rumley
wants visitors to develop
an understanding of how human life
has affected the vast ecosystem.
Resources Center,
which highlights
traditions and ways
of life in Tyrrell
County. The Walter
B. Jones Center for
the Sounds, which
will focus on
pocosins and
forested wetlands, is
scheduled to open
in Columbia in
2000.
This summer,
another facility —
the Roanoke/Cashie
River Center —
will open in a
renovated building
overlooking the
Cashie River in
Windsor. The 3,500
square-foot facility
will focus on coastal river systems and how
to manage important watersheds. It will
also have several outdoor attractions,
including a wetland pond and boardwalks.
A facility is planned for Oriental,
known for its ideal sailing conditions. "The
Oriental facility will be made with environ-
mentally friendly techniques and have
interactive exhibits," says Woolard. "Since
the wind is unique here, we will use the
winds as a teaching tool."
All of the Partnership for the Sounds
facilities showcase unique features of the
Albemarle-Pamlico region and offer a
glimpse into a place that you'll never
forget. □
The North Carolina Estuarium is at
223 East Water St., Washington. It is open
from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tuesday through
Saturday. Summer hours are June 6
through Sept. 6, Tuesday-Saturday 10 a.m.
to 4 p.m. and Sunday 7 to 5 p.m. Reserva-
tions are required for school groups.
Admission is $3 for adults, $2 for students
in grades K-12, and free for preschoolers.
For more information, call 252/948-0000.
COASTWATCH 25
SEA
SCIENCE
A Whale of a Network:
Rapid Response Team Assists Entangled Humpback
I
By Katie Mosher • Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
. t's just after dawn. Dallas Rose
is hoping that sea mullet will fill his gill
nets off Cape Lookout. Instead, his
catch is something completely unex-
pected.
of a new whale disentanglement network
along the North Carolina coast.
With the Lady Jane crew standing
by, the Coast Guard arrives to secure the
site. Calls go out to the National Marine
David Manila, left, and Bill Foster display the disentanglement tools at
the N.C. Commercial Fishing Show.
A young humpback whale gets its
tail flukes caught in the netting. The
powerful 25-foot whale immediately
pulls the 37-foot Lady Jane about a
quarter-mile, reminding the captain of a
scene from the movie Jaws.
A veteran of 25 years of commer-
cial fishing, Rose gives the whale some
slack and reports the incident to the U.S.
Coast Guard. His call starts the first test
Fisheries Service (NMFS), to biologists
at Duke University Marine Lab in
Beaufort and to national experts in whale
disentanglement at the Center for Coastal
Studies in Massachusetts, as well as to
the N.C. Division of Marine Fisheries.
A Coast Guard helicopter heads to
Oregon Inlet to pick up net tools —
hooks and knives — and other special-
ized equipment.
The process is moving like clock-
work, thanks to the foresight of commer-
cial fisher Bill Foster of Hatteras and the
state Fishery Resource Grant Program, which
paid for training and whale-specific tools.
Rescue team members Andrew Read
and Andrew Westgate, marine biologists at
the Duke lab, were among 30 fishers,
scientists and government officials who
attended the grant-funded training.
After consulting with NMFS and
David Mattila of the Center for Coastal
Studies, who led the training, the rescue
team arrives on the Coast Guard's Block
Island about 10:45 a.m.
In the meantime, the Coast Guard
helicopter is delivering the equipment,
including buoys, radio tags and satellite
transmitters, along with the net hooks and
knives.
Although anchored by the net, the
whale is not in immediate danger, giving
the rescue team a chance to put the
previously theoretical procedure into
action. As the team finalizes a plan, the
Coast Guard keeps onlookers at a
distance.
By 1 p.m., the team is ready to start
the disentanglement procedure from a 19-
foot boat from the National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration. Using
grappling hooks and delicate knives, they can
snip the net between the whale's dives.
After the fourth dive, the team is able to
cut the last piece of netting. The cutting
process takes only 40 minutes. The whale
immediately takes off, as television cameras
catch the escape to freedom.
26 EARLY SUMMER 1999
T
I hp rapid response to Dallas
Rose's March 24 report was heralded up
and down the coast. By all accounts, the
state's new whale network passed its
first test with flying colors.
"It reflects on Bill Foster's wisdom
that he got the equipment here. He got
the disentanglement network started,"
says rescue team member Read.
Coast Guard officials agree. "It's
handy to have that equipment on the
Outer Banks," says Petty Officer A.C.
Bennett of the Coast Guard headquarters
in Norfolk. "I was impressed at how
quickly it came together."
Bennett sees a synergy of equip-
Virginia Beach and the northern Outer
Banks. Foster likens the young whales to
teenagers, who sometimes get into
trouble.
"We had one die that was entangled
off Hatteras last year," Foster says. "We
did not have the equipment and people in
place."
The difference this year is like night
and day, he says. "We were fortunate
that Andrew Westgate had some
experience in this before," Foster says.
"We are a bit surprised that it worked the
first time — but we're happy."
The goal of the $40,000 fishery
grant he received in 1998 is to "promote
SEA
SCIENCE
And the new whale network is a
prime example of the grant program in
action, says Steve Olson, associate
director of North Carolina Sea Grant.
Sea Grant administers the program,
which is funded by the North Carolina
General Assembly.
"The program is designed to fund
research and find solutions to problems
identified by those who make their
living on the water," Olson says. "The
instincts and intuition of those involved
in the fishing industry are crucial factors
in resolving a variety of coastal issues."
The Fishery Resource Grant
Program was established in 1994 by the
The rescue team prepares the hooks, knives
and transmitter buoys.
ment and training within the network.
"We are trained at saving lives at sea —
but we are not used to a patient quite
this size," he adds.
In this case, the team did not need
all the available equipment, including an
inflatable boat with an outboard. But
more complicated rescues could come up.
Juvenile whales are known to
winter in the mid-Atlantic, usually near
a partnership between fishermen and the
various agencies involved to provide
stewardship for this special resource."
To draw attention to the network,
Foster and Mattila had a booth at the
N.C. Commercial Fishing Show in
Morehead City. Taking initiative to solve
a problem, then sharing the information
with others along the coast is a goal of
the Fishery Resource Grant Program.
A smaller boat lets the team
get close to the whale.
North Carolina General Assembly. Each
year, nearly $1 million are available to
those actively involved in the fishing
industries to study issues and determine
creative solutions to problems in four
major categories: fishery equipment and
gear, environmental pilot projects,
aquaculture and seafood technology.
Continued
COASTWATCH 27
SEA
SCIENCE
In addition to administering the
program, North Carolina Sea Grant
oversees out-of-state reviews. The N.C.
Marine Fisheries Commission selects
the proposals to be funded.
The issue of whale entanglements
surfaced five years ago, when the
Hatteras-Ocracoke Auxiliary of the
North Carolina Fisheries Association
convened a public meeting on the issue,
Foster recalls. But efforts to coordinate
In recent years, the number of
reported entanglements in New England
has gone up. Foster suspects that the
actual number of incidents is not
increasing, but rather that reporting has
gone up, as fishers trust the network.
"I think the same will happen here,"
he says.
"In the past, the tendency was not
to call attention to themselves, even
though by law they have to report it.
Once the netting is cut, the whale swims free.
various agencies and offices were not
fruitful.
More recently, Foster was ap-
pointed to a large whale take-reduction
team, where he learned of Manila's
efforts with the Center for Coastal
Studies. In New England, many of the
entanglements involve right whales,
which are considered on the brink of
extinction as the population hovers at
about 300.
28 EARLY SUMMER 1999
There is a threat of severe penalties for
injuring a whale," Foster says.
To encourage more fishers to be
trained in Level 1 or Level 2 response,
Foster expects to offer evening work-
shops. At these first levels, the fishers
can stand by and provide appropriate
information to Level 3 responders,
including marine biologists, who
actually perform the disentanglement.
The March incident followed
expected procedures. "The fishermen did
the right thing. They called it in," Read
says.
The team then counts on the Coast
Guard to secure the site as the exact plan
is prepared.
"People want to get in the water
with the whale. That is very, very
dangerous," Read says. Untrained
rescuers could get caught in the net
themselves and pulled down when the
whale dives. "The power of these
animals is amazing," he says.
Federal law also keeps would-be
heroes at bay. Because humpback whales
are considered a threatened species, only
persons certified by the NMFS are
allowed to get close to the animal. The
training organized by Foster provided
that certification for the rescue team.
From that point, it was a process of
following procedures. "You don't want to
get in a hurry," Foster says.
"The hardest thing is to get people
to slow down and to follow procedures
— not only for their safety but for the
safety of the whale. You don't want them
to spook the animal."
The success of the first disentangle-
ment will draw attention to the need for
the network. Foster soon will look for
funding to purchase primary net tools
and buoys for several locations along the
coast and to encourage fishers to take
ownership in the network.
"This grant got it started. We have to
come up with a way to keep it going," he
says. "We hope we will never have to do
it again — but we know that won't be the
case." 0
For more information on the whale
disentanglement network training, call
Bill Foster at 252/986-2430. To contact
the Center for Coastal Studies, call 508/
487-3622.
For more information on the Fishery
Resource Grant Program, call North
Carolina Sea Grant at 919/515-2454 or
252/247-4007.
NATURALIST'S
NOTEBOOK
Natural Beauties:
Coastal Flora Bountiful
By Odile Fredericks
Q
n a summer wander along the
coast, a glimpse of a wildflower blooming
quiedy in the sand or grass is a gift from
nature for those who seek simple pleasures.
"What a wonderful feeling it is, to
happen upon curious and beautiful plants,
and the chance discovery of nature's
unexpected gifts," says James Ward, a
curator with the North Carolina Botanical
Garden in Chapel Hill.
Beach Morning Glory, Ipomoea siolonifera
"You go out looking and not knowing
exactly what you're going to see, and what a
feeling of surprise when you see how much
is there," he adds.
The coastal plain abounds with a range
of summer wildflowers waiting to reveal
themselves. Annoying sandspurs attach their
prickly selves to your socks. Gorgeous
water lilies and mysterious, carnivorous
Venus flytraps capture your attention.
Native Americans have long used
coastal flora to their advantage. In the
maritime forests hugging the coast, for
example, they gathered Spanish moss to
make cords and floor mats, stuffing for
pillows, tinder for fire and absorbent pads to
remove cooking scum.
Today, most people seek wildflowers
for their beauty in the spring, but the
Continued
COASTWATCH 29
NATURALIST'S
NOTEBOOK
Laurel Hill Prey
Indian Blanket, Gaillardia
Laurel Hill Press
Railroad Vine, Ipomoea pes-caprae
Laurel Hill Press
summer also offers opportunities for those
willing to brave the heat.
Duke University botany professor
Robert Wilbur, a wildflower fan, says the
coastal plain's geology and topography
sprout hundreds of intriguing wild natives.
"It's a rich flora," he says. "The whole
coastal plain has very unique and interesting
flora."
Though development encroaches on
pristine areas, you can find wildflowers if
you know where to look. Here's a taste of
what's out there, starting with some of the
easiest to spot in June, July and August.
Q
Passion Rower, Passiflora incamata
rn roadsides and near
condominiums, hotels and beach houses:
• Indian blanket Gaillardia pulchella.
A daisylike flower with red, orange or
yellow petals, it is found in relatively dry
places such as dunes.
• Maypops/Passion flower Passiflora
incarnata. This ornate, sky-blue flower
stays close to the ground and produces a
lemon-sized, greenish-yellow fruit in the
fall. Some say the flower represents
Christian imagery: 10 petals call to mind
the 1 0 apostles who did not betray Christ,
and five stamens represent the five wounds
inflicted on Christ.
• Morning glories Ipomoea spp. These
vines have funnel-shaped flowers and heart-
shaped leaves that trail along the ground in
dry soils. The name comes from the often-
white flowers that open to welcome the
morning but collapse by mid-day.
• Golden asters Chrysopsis spp.
These upright stems of abundant, long-
lasting yellow flowers usually grow upright
in dry, sandy soils.
• Yuccas/Spanish bayonets Yucca
spp. Members of the lily family, these
flowers have long, pointed leaves in an
evergreen basal rosette. From the leaves
emerges a stalk three to five feet tall,
covered with six-petaled white flowers.
• Thoroughworts Eupatorium spp.
Upright plants two to four feet tall sport
flat-topped clusters of small, white flowers.
"Individual flowers are very small, but
there are lots of them so they make a
very obvious show to attract pollinators,"
Ward says.
Q
fn frontal dunes and areas that
lie between the high tide mark and beach
houses:
• Seaoats Uniola paniculata. The
signature plant of the frontal dunes, sea oats
bloom in the summer when their pale green
flowers and fruits often pass unnoticed. As
the season goes on, they turn straw-colored.
Resistant to salt spray, sea oats stabilize the
dunes, so avoid walking on or picking
them.
• Sandspurs Cenchrus spp. Wild-
flowers that most people try to avoid,
sandspurs are not known for their flowers,
but for their fruit. These are covered in
long, barbed spines that stick to clothing
and help the plant get around to new sites.
I
.n wet areas close to the ocean or
sound or in roadside ditches:
• American water lily Nymphaea
odorata. This beautiful, fragrant perennial
has large, roundish to heart-shaped leaves
that float on the water. The creamy white
flowers are three to six inches across and
remain open for days.
• White-topped sedge Dichromena
colorata. Although most sedges look like
grasses and don't have showy flowers, this
one is striking, with floppy, white, thin
bracts that surround very small flowers.
Sedges can be easily identified because
their stems are triangular rather than round.
• Pickerel weed Pontederia cordata.
Found in standing water or very wet soils,
this native perennial grows two to three feet
tall and produces a very upright spike of
blue flowers.
• Cattail Typha latifolia. This plant
can grow to six feet tall and has long, green
30 EARLY SUMMER 1999
NATURALIST'S
NOTEBOOK
leaves out of which grows a stem with a
dense cluster of flowers shaped like a
cylinder. Indigenous people ate its roots and
young stems as a vegetable, and used the
pollen from its male flowers in bread
making, Ward says. The stem supports both
male and female flowers. When they first
emerge, the female flowers are a light tan,
but turn chestnut brown as they mature. A
smaller cluster of male flowers grows above
this brown cylinder, but falls off after the
pollen is shed, leaving behind a thin stalk.
^n the Nature Conservancy's Green
Swamp Nature Preserve, a long leaf pine
savanna in Brunswick County:
• Pitcher plant Sarracenia purpurea.
Most pitcher plants flower before June, but
you might still see the purple pitcher plant
blooming in early summer. Its beautiful
reddish and burgundy flowers have five
petals and are on stalks that rise about a foot
from the ground. A carnivorous plant with
squatty tubular leaves, it has nectar glands
that entice unwitting insects. The pitcher
plants digest the insects' soft body parts to
get nitrogen, which is generally lacking in
the soils where it grows. The leaves range
from slighdy purple to a deeper hue.
• Venus flytrap Dionaea muscipula.
Found naturally only within 50 to 75 miles
of Wilmington, the Venus flytrap is an
oddity — a plant that bites back. Of all
carnivorous plants, it is the only one you
can easily see in action, as it traps insects by
snapping shut its leaves, gradually squeez-
ing their bodies and sealing them in a
digestive vat. Its leaves, which are some-
times red inside and laced with nectar, are
thought to be the lure.
• Sundews Drosera spp. These
flowers vary from white to pink, depending
on the species. The leaves' surfaces are
covered with glistening sticky droplets that
capture small insects.
• Yellow milkwort Polygala lutea.
With compact heads of attractive orange
flowers on stalks six to 10 inches tall, this
plant's name is a misnomer. Early Europe-
ans thought them to be yellow, based on
the dried specimens they received.
• Hatpins Eriocaulon spp. Named for
their resemblance to old-fashioned hatpins,
these white flowers form a tight cluster that
looks like a flat-topped button atop a very
slender stalk. □
Learn More About Wildflowers
and Other Coastal Plants
Interested in wild/lower walks
throughout the year? Check with a nearby
local state or national park. The following
groups and organizations also occasion-
ally organize coastal field trips:
The North Carolina Botanical
Garden in Chapel Hill, 919/962-0522;
The Nature Conservancy of North
Carolina, owner of the Green Swamp
Nature Preserve, 919/403-8558;
The North Carolina Wildflower
Preservation Society in Raleigh, 919/834-
4172; and
The North Carolina Maritime
Museum in Beaufort, 252/728-7317.
To learn more about a variety of
coastal plants, order a North Carolina Sea
Grant publication:
• A Guide to Salt Marsh Plants
Common to North Carolina is a teaching
guide to the herbs, vines, grasses and
shrubs found in North Carolina marshes.
UNC-SG-81-04; 32 pages; illustrated;
$1.50.
• A Guide to Ocean Dune Plants
Common to North Carolina describes and
illustr-ates the herbs, vines, grasses, shrubs
and tees found on and near the North
Carolina dunes. UNC-SG-87-01; 80
pages; $4.50.
• Seacoast Plants of the Carolinas for
Conservation and Beautifkation is a
handbook on the use of plants for land-
scaping and stabilizing coastal soils. UNC-
SG-73-06; 206 pages; $4.50.
Make your check payable to North
Carolina Sea Grant. Send your request to
North Carolina Sea Grant, NCSU, Box
8605, Raleigh, NC 27695-8605. For more
information, call 919/515-2454.
Laurel Hill Press
Hatpins, Eriocaulon
Laurel Hill Press
Venus Flytrap, Dionaea muscipula
COASTWATCH 31
THE
CATCH
Tuna Confusion:
Distinguishing Atlantic Bonitofrom Little Tunny
By Rene'e Wolcott Shannon
ATLANTIC BONITO
Found in spring, better tasting, has stripes but no spots.
I
, t's a case of mistaken identity.
Every May, when the water first
gets warmer, and again in September
and October, when it's starting to cool
off, heavy-bodied fish with silver bellies
and red flesh school in our sounds. They
are members of the tuna family and
many people mistake them for the same
species, but Atlantic bonito and little
tunny are entirely different.
"In May off our coast, we see the
Atlantic bonito," says Jim Bahen,
recreational fisheries agent for North
Carolina Sea Grant. "It's the first fish we
see coming in to feed in numbers." The
fish reaches 4 to 5 pounds, topping out at
27 pounds. Atlantic bonito have dark
squiggly lines on top, and common
names for them include "little football,"
"striped ape" and "bonito."
Some people also call Atlantic
bonito "little tunny" or "false albacore,"
which is caught in the fall of the year.
Little tunny is another small fish,
weighing up to 15 pounds. Tunny have
the same squiggly stripes on their dorsal
sides, but they also have dark spots on
their bellies. "Another name for the little
tunny is 'spotted bonito,' to further
confuse things," says Bahen.
"The little tunny is an extremely
popular fish in Carteret County, and it's
found in Beaufort and Bogue inlets.
Sometimes you can catch it from the
beach, and fishers converge on it."
Of the two species, the Atlantic
bonito is better to eat, so early summer
fishers are in luck. Watch for the fish at
dawn and at dusk in deeper water, where
bonito feed on juvenile fish such as silver-
sides, anchovies, alewives and menhaden.
Birds are attracted to the leftovers, so schools
32 EARLY SUMMER 1999
THE
CATCH
of bonito are often marked by diving gulls
and terns. "Bonito stay with the bait, so
watch the bait," Bahen says.
Originally, the bonito' s worth as a
food fish went unnoticed, and charter
fishing boats often used them as strip
bait. "But it's a myth that the fish is not
good," Bahen says. In the last five to 10
years, the bonito fishery has become
catch a fish on light tackle," Bahen says,
"but breaking a line or fighting the fish
for too long is bad. You can ruin the fish
before you bring it to the boat." He prefers
an 8- to 10-pound line for catching bonito.
He also recommends using a bite tippet or
abrasion-resistant leader, since both fish
have teeth and can chafe the line.
Catch-and-release methods are
quickly, stick a knife into it right below
the pectoral fin or cut a ring around the
base of its tail. If you have time, gut the
fish as well. Pack the fish in ice slush in
a cooler for the boat ride back to shore.
Atlantic bonito can be prepared
much like yellowfin tuna. Broil it, bake
it, or make tuna salad out of it by
filleting and parboiling the meat.
LITTLE TUNNY
Found in fall, more difficult to prepare, lias both stripes and spots.
more popular, especially with saltwater
fly-fishing setups.
When fishing for bonito, sight cast
with light tackle and a fly, and perhaps
some trolling, Bahen recommends.
"With tackle, match the size of the
artificial lure to the size of the bait as
best you can. Fly fishers can really
emulate bait." Other kinds of bait include
spoons or jigs, and if fish aren't biting,
"dredging" with a fly rod and a sinking
line may reach below the surface to the
Atlantic bonito or little tunny lurking below.
"It's considered more sporting to
especially important when angling for a
schooling fish like Atlantic bonito or
little tunny. "Establish what you need
and return the rest," says Bahen. "Since
it's a school fish, you could get carried
away and catch a boatload of them. But
don't let them go to waste."
For the fish you decide to keep, it's
important to bleed and ice them as fast
as possible. Both Atlantic bonito and
little tunny are warm-blooded fish with
red meat; if they aren't bled and chilled
immediately, their body heat will cause
the meat to spoil. To bleed the fish
Little tunny, which appear along
our coast in the fall, are more difficult to
prepare. They have a stronger "fishy"
flavor, which can be avoided by cutting
out the "blood line" or dark meat along
the spine and near the kidneys. This
difference in flavor, the spots on its
belly, and the time of year when the fish
is found mark the only distinction
between the tunny and its bonito cousin.
'The fishing is about the same," says
Bahen. "Use trolling, sight casting, and the
same lures and artificial bait. Just know
that the fish are two separate species." □
COASTWATCH 33
i- > o
□ CI o
° m S
J= 5 >
T» — I-
z o ">
From the Editor
Settling In
L seems like the arrival of 1999 has been
lost amid Y2K fever. The year 2000 may herald
mystery and intrigue, but here at North Carolina
Sea Grant, we will take full advantage of 1999.
This spring, we expect to name a new asso-
ciate director of research, a move that will bring
us back to full staff. I am one of four new staff
members who joined Sea Grant last fall.
Steve Olson, our new associate director for
outreach, arrived from Oregon in November with
a strong sense of North Carolina Sea Grant ef-
forts. As director of the National Coastal Re-
sources Research and Development Institute, he
oversaw funding for a variety of demonstration
projects here. The Tar Heel ties run even deeper
in his home — his wife, Laura grew up in Greenville and attended
East Carolina University.
We four "new kids on the block" found ourselves learning
much about the entire program in a very short time. In early De-
cember, North Carolina Sea Grant hosted a panel of experts as part
of a national effort to review Sea Grant programs across the coun-
try. To show the depth and breadth of the program here, we chose
to share a series of Sea Grant success stories.
The entire staff, along with researchers and coastal residents
who put Sea Grant ideas into practice, provided background on
topics from water quality to seafood technology, aquaculture to
coastal hazards, fishery gear innovations to marine education.
At times our task seemed overwhelming, but the coastal tour
itself was a wonderful introduction to the people who make Sea
Grant tick. Our two-day adventure started in Wilmington and
ended in Lake Mattamuskeet. Time constraints kept us from con-
tinuing to the Outer Banks, so we brought a Hatteras clam farmer
inland to share his success story — a rake-your-
own clams venture.
You may wish you could have tagged along
on our whirlwind tour, but regular Coastwatch
I readers have already been transported to the loca-
tions of these successful Sea Grant projects.
The tour folders were filled with
Coastwatch articles that told readers of the rise
of hybrid striped bass farms and efforts to
make coastal homes safer. Stories noted the
J arrival of bluefin tuna, implementation of new
seafood regulations and the popularity of skim-
mer trawls.
As you may have gathered, my welcome to
Sea Grant has been hectic. I could not have made
the transition without the strong support of helpful colleagues, espe-
cially Jeannie Faris Norris.
Coastwatch readers have long appreciated Jeannie' s fine writ-
ing style. What you may not have seen so directly has been her keen
eye for editing and design, her ability to help writers make action
come alive on the written page and her smiles while she manages
multiple projects with ease. Her patience undoubtedly will serve her
well as she prepares for a new career in nursing.
Another Coastwatch regular is also charting new adventures.
Historian David Cecelski has added a unique perspective to our
pages. He has shed light on the roles of lifesavers and photogra-
phers, gardeners and midwives whose individual efforts combined
to shape coastal life as we know it today.
David has a historian's heart, but he has at least one eye on the
approaching year 2000. He expects to see a collection of his col-
umns published next spring.
In the meantime, welcome to 1999, courtesy of Coastwatch. □
Katie Mosher, managing editor
Contributors
Writers:
David Cecelski D Ann Green Q Katie Mosher ° T. Edward Nickens
Jeannie Faris Norris D Julie Ann Powers 0 Renee Wolcott Shannon
Photographers:
Cedric N. Chatterley 0 Michael Halminski a Herman Lankford B Scott D. Taylor
Features
Coastal Tidings 2
The Big Ditch: A Scenic Maritime Byway
For many visitors to the North Carolina coast, crossing the Intra-
coastal Waterway is simply a sign that the drive is nearly over.
But for boaters, the waterway is a destination in itself. Join
T. Edward Nickens on a waterway adventure 6
Shipshape: Harkers Island Boatbuilders
Keep Tradition Alive
Harkers Island is a haven for boatbuilders. Meet traditional
craftsmen who create sportfishing boats from wood and
fiberglass 14
Built in North Carolina
Boatbuilding is big business in North Carolina. Multimillion-
dollar manufacturers boost the state's economy 19
The Launching of the Water Lily
A writer with little power-tool experience takes on a task that would
daunt many a backyard carpenter — building a wooden sailboat
from scratch. Julie Ann Powers shares her pride and joy in the
process and its final product 20
Erosion-Control Options: Revising Regulations
to Preserve our Estuaries
As developments spring up along North Carolina's estuaries,
property owners look for ways to protect eroding shorelines.
What are the options? Revised regulations could mean new
restrictions for landowners 24
A Historian 's Coast: All Good Things
A historian's tools include canoes and kayaks — at least for historian
David Cecelski, who gathers stories from fragile freshwater
wetlands and blackwater swamps 28
Naturalist's Notebook: Beautiful, Bountiful Bay Scallops
The bay scallop is a royal find, and you can dig for it in our sounds.
Read up on the lifestyle of this celebrated mollusk 31
Sea Science: Estuarine Trawling:
Study Measures Impacts of Fishing Techniques
Does inshore shrimp trawling help or harm the environment?
This year, researchers join fishers in an attempt to find out 32
COASTWATCH
Coastwatch
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Jeannie Fans Norris
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 1 2-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program.
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http://www2. ncsu. edi</sea_grant/seagrant. html.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch, North Carolina Sea Grant,
North Carolina State University. Box 8605.
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Olson Named New Outreach Director
North Carolina Sea
Grant has a new outreach
director steering the course
for the extension and
communications staff.
Steven G. Olson,
former director of the
National Coastal Resources
Research and Development
Institute (NCRI), started his
new position in November.
Olson's experience includes
oversight of North
Carolina's hybrid striped
bass demonstration project
while at NCRI.
From 1994 to 1998, Olson led NCRI,
which promotes environmentally respon-
sible economic development in coastal
regions through research and community/
industry outreach projects. He also helped
facilitate the development of new coastal
and marine technologies.
Olson replaces Jim Murray, now
director of the National Sea Grant Exten-
sion Program in Silver Spring, Md.
In his new position, Olson supervises
Sea Grant's extension agents, educational
program and communications staff.
"We're very happy to have Steve join
the North Carolina Sea Grant staff," says
Sea Grant director Ron Hodson. "He brings
with him extensive experience in coastal
and marine policy and administration and
community outreach. One of Sea Grant's
priorities is improving community input."
Olson's first order of business is to
Steve Olson
travel the coast to assess
the needs of Sea Grant
extension staff and coastal
communities. "The future
of Sea Grant will hinge on
its ability to meld together a
high-quality, peer-reviewed
research program with an
aggressive outreach effort,"
he says.
Increasing the
visibility of North Carolina
Sea Grant is also high on
Olson's agenda. "My goal
is to make North Carolina
Sea Grant the primary source for timely and
accurate information about the state's
coastal and marine issues," he says. "With
the expertise and experience of our staff, we
can continue to be a clearinghouse of
information for our state's citizens."
Educated in wildlife management and
natural resource policy, Olson received a
master's degree in 1983 from Colorado
State University. From 1987 to 1988, he
was a Dean John A. Knauss Sea Grant
Fellow in the U.S. House of Representa-
tives, where he worked on budgets for the
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the
National Marine Fisheries Service.
Olson has held other positions in
Washington, D.C., including the director-
ship of the marine and environmental
affairs division of the National Association
of State Universities and Land-Grant
Colleges. He also worked at the National
Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
—AG.
Front cover photo of the Intracoastal
Waterway by Scott D. Taylor.
Table of contents photo of Pamlico
Sound oysters by Michael Halminski.
Printed on recycled paper. ®
b the Next Issue of Coastwatch
Few regions of the state have a sporting legacy to match that of Currituck
Sound. From the mid-1 9th century to the present, Currituck's waters have served
as a haunt of rich Northern industrialists, gunning grounds for market hunters
and philosophical birthplace of Ducks Unlimited. In our next issue, T. Edward
Nickens travels to the Currituck past for a look at the region's waterfowl heritage
and how it influenced state and national conservation initiatives.
2 WINTER 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Raleigh School Wins Ocean Mural
Don 't look
for it on any atlas,
but there is a new
ocean — in
Raleigh.
Leesville
Elementary School
boasts a new ocean
mural, a tribute to
the 1998 Year of
the Ocean. Lees-
ville students were
the North Carolina
winners in the
national Ocean
Challenge contest
sponsored by the
Wyland Founda-
tion. One school in
each state was
selected to receive a mural and a special
program on oceans.
During an October visit, a mural artist
known simply as Wyland painted a
humpback whale for the mural. Students
added other Atlantic Ocean sea life —
hammerhead sharks, manatees, sea horses,
turtles and angelfish. The final mural was a
diptych — two pieces divided by a hallway.
This Leesville Elementary School student
adds a sea creature.
Together they
form a single
piece of art.
The Leesville
students' interest
in oceans is not
new. Each year,
fourth graders take
a nine- week
coastal studies
unit that includes
water quality,
marine life and
coastal ecosys-
tems. The unit
culminates in an
overnight field trip
for hands-on
research at the
coast.
In addition to the mural, several
Raleigh students offered readings from
Wyland' s latest book for the Ocean
Clwllenge documentary.
To learn more about the Ocean
Challenge and Wyland' s visit to Leesville
Elementary, check out the Web site at http://
www.wylandfoundation.org/toumc.html.
—KM.
Fishery Resource Grants
Blend Experience, Research
Fishers have observations, intuition
and hypotheses from years of experience
on the water. Scientists have research
methods to gather and analyze data.
Put them together and what do you
get? Innovative solutions to fisheries issues,
courtesy of the state-funded Fishery
Resource Grant Program.
The North Carolina Marine Fisheries
Commission will soon select the 1 999
grant recipients from applications that
meet the Jan. 1 5 deadline. State legislators
have appropriated $1 million annually for
the program, which is administered by
North Carolina Sea Grant.
Fishers who have problem-solving
ideas may apply for the grants. Applicants
must be active in commercial or recre-
ational fishing, or have endorsement from
and involvement with those active in the
industry.
Sea Grant helps to match applicants
with researchers at North Carolina
universities who can suggest appropriate
research and data-analysis methods.
To learn more about an innovative
study of the environmental impacts of
inshore trawling, funded by a Fishery
Resource Grant, turn to page 32.
— KM.
Seafood
Allergies
Common
Are you allergic to seafood
or other kinds of food? The Food
and Drug Administration (FDA)
estimates 1 60 foods cause allergic
reactions in sensitive individuals.
Milk, eggs, peanuts, shellfish, tree
nuts, soybeans, wheat and fish
account for 90 percent of all
severe allergic reactions.
In the United States, an
estimated one-tenth of 1 percent
of consumers are allergic or at risk
of developing an allergy to
seafood, according to Samuel
Lehrer, a researcher at the Tulane
University School of Medicine.
Finfish allergies are more
common in children, while adults
seem to be more sensitive to
shellfish. One seafood that can
cause allergic reactions is sulfite-
treated shrimp. Fishers use sulfites
to combat discoloration of
shrimp after harvest.
Consumers who are allergic
to sulfites may experience cramps,
nausea or vomiting. Those with a
severe reaction may suffer
breathing problems or shock.
To protect consumers at risk
for sulfite allergies, the FDA's
Hazard Analysis and Critical
Control Point (HACCP) regula-
tions require the labeling of all
sulfite-treated shrimp. — AG.
COASTWATCH
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Around the Network:
Scientists
Discover
Genetic
Similarities
Between
Humans and
Dolphins
Texas A&M University
scientists, in a project funded by
Texas Sea Grant, are comparing
human chromosomes to those of
dolphins and finding that the two
share many similarities.
"We've found that the
dolphin genome and the human
genome are basically homolo-
gous," says researcher David
Busbee. "It's just that there are a
few chromosomal rearrangements
that have changed the way the
genetic material is put together."
The scientists are trying to
determine if the same similarities
are true for individual genes on the
chromosomes.
"We expect there are a
number of places where the
dolphin genome will reflect
differences with the human
genome," Busbee says. He hopes
these differences will tell scientists
how long ago dolphins and
humans embarked down different
branches of the evolutionary tree.
According to their genes,
Busbee says, dolphins are more
closely related to cows, antelopes
and giraffes, and the domestic pig
may be their closest relative. If
scientists can determine the genetic
information shared by humans and
dolphins, he says, then they may be
able to save time in constructing a
genetic map of dolphins.
Two Scholars Win Knauss Fellowships
Two scholars from North
Carolina are heading to
Washington, D.C., after being
selected for the 1999 Dean John
A. Knauss Marine Policy
Fellowship. Created in 1979,
the fellowship offers a unique
educational experience to
students with an interest in
marine, ocean and Great Lakes
resources and in the national
policy decisions affecting those
resources.
The fellowship, sponsored
by the National Sea Grant
Program, matches highly
qualified graduate students with
hosts in the legislative or
executive branches of the
federal government.
North Carolina's recipients
are Catherine Wannamaker and
Kathleen Moore.
Wannamaker completed a
master's degree in the Zoology Department
at North Carolina State University in 1998.
Because of her interest in policy, she also
Kathleen Moore
Catherine Wannamaker
completed an interdisciplinary
minor in environmental law
and policy.
Her thesis, which focuses
on fish response to hypoxia,
already has generated interest
from researchers at other
institutions across the country.
Wannamaker is assigned to the
Senate Commerce, Science
and Transportation Committee.
Moore is finishing a
master's degree in environ-
mental management at Duke
University's Nicholas School
of the Environment. Her
master's project researches
local governments' role in
addressing opposing view-
points and creating a proactive,
effective coastal policy.
Moore is using a proposed
ocean outfall to assess local
governments' ability to address
a regional issue. She is assigned to the
National Marine Fisheries Service Office of
Protected Resources. — AG.
Democracy Betrayed
If you've enjoyed reading David
Cecelski's coastal history columns in
Coastwatch, be sure to find a copy of his
latest book, Democracy Betrayed.
On Nov. 1 0, 1 898, the streets of
Wlmington were filled with turmoil as
white supremacists, marching in a
procession 2,000 strong, battled the city's
black citizens in an explosion of violence
that has since been referred to as the
Wilmington race riot of 1898.
One hundred years later, Cecelski
and historian Timothy Tyson clarify that
the racial violence that besieged the
bustling port town was no "riot." What
happened in Wlmington, the co-editors
write in their introduction, "was part of an
orchestrated campaign to end interracial
cooperation, restore white supremacy,
and in the process assure the rule of the
state's planter and industrial leaders."
Democracy Betrayed: The Wilmington
Race Riot of 1898 and Its Legacy marks the
centennial of the racial violence. The
collection of essays is edited by Cecelski and
Tyson with a foreword byjohn Hope
Franklin. The book "is intended to draw
public attention to the tragedy, to honor its
victims, and to bring a clear and timely
historical voice into the lively debate over its
legacy," write Cecelski and Tyson. The
editors comment that they hesitated to
refer to the racial violence in Wlmington as
a "riot" in the subtitle of the book, but they
reluctantly settled on the term to ensure
that it would be understood.
Democracy Betrayed is available from
bookstores or the University of North
Carolina Press at 800/848-6224. It costs
$16.95 in paperback and $45 in cloth.
WINTER 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Low-Cost Erosion Protection —
and its Environmentally Friendly
lorth Carolina
Sea Grant has perfected
a low-cost wooden
breakwater design to
control estuarine
erosion. The design calls
for the property owner
to plant and maintain a
salt marsh on a
previously eroding
beach and build a small
structure offshore. The
structure helps to
establish and protect
the salt marsh. Fifteen
or 20 feet of marsh will,
in turn, prevent erosion
of upland shorelines.
Using this marsh/breakwater design,
an estuarine property owner can reduce
erosion-control costs from about $1 00 per
foot for a bulkhead to less than $40 per
foot. It's also one of the few coastal
construction efforts that scientists, coastal
managers and property owners agree is an
environmental asset, says Spencer Rogers,
North Carolina Sea Grant's coastal erosion
and construction specialist.
Shoreline Erosion Control
Using Marsh Vegetation and
Low-Cost Structures
Between 1992
and 1 996, Sea Grant
worked with NC State
University's Depart-
ment of Soil Science,
Albemarle-Pamlico
Estuarine Study, N.C.
Cooperative Extension
Service and the N.C.
Sediment Control
Commission to
establish more than a
dozen demonstration
sites from Currituck to
Brunswick counties.
Sea Grant and NC
State University have
published a planting
and construction guide. Shoreline Erosion
Control Using Marsh Vegetation and Low-Cost
Structures costs $2.50. Make your check
payable to Sea Grant and mail it to North
Carolina Sea Grant, NC State University,
Box 8605, Raleigh NC 27695-8605. Ask
for UNC-SG-92-1 2. Or contact Rogers at
91 0/256-2083. Turn to page 24 for a
related story. — J.F.N.
Bycatch Defined
The word "bycatch" makes most
people think of the unwanted fish that
are pulled in during shrimp trawling or
net fishing. Some worry that the ratios
of bycatch to desired catch are too high.
Five pounds of bycatch to a pound of
shrimp can be a frightening statistic.
But bycatch is any catch that isn't
the target for fishers. "Bycatch doesn't
even have to be fish," says Jim Bahen, a
North Carolina Sea Grant fisheries
agent. "Bycatch can be beer cans, old
tennis shoes, grass, stumps." All those
items contribute to the bycatch weight
ratios but have no impact on fish
populations.
Another misperception is that only
commercial fishers have bycatch. Both
recreational and commercial fishers pull
in fish they don't set out to catch. For
pier fishers, bycatch can mean unwanted
dogfish, skates and blowfish. Like
commercial fishers, they can throw such
fish back. With new developments like
the Turtle Excluder Device and skimmer
trawl, much bycatch lives to swim
another day . — R.W. S.
Operation Pathfinder Offers
K-12 Teachers Summer Opportunities
North Carolina Sea Grant, Virginia
Sea Grant and the N.C. Aquarium at
Roanoke Island will host the 1999 mid-
Atlantic region CO AST/Operation Path-
finder. The course for K-12 teachers will be
June 19 to July 2 along the Outer Banks of
North Carolina and Virginia shores of the
Chesapeake Bay. Participants will receive
three semester credits.
Teachers from North Carolina,
Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey
and the District of Columbia may apply for
26 in-service slots. Education majors in these
states may apply for four preservice spaces.
This fully supported program provides
tuition at North Carolina State University,
room and board, a travel allotment, $300
stipend and resource materials. Oceanogra-
phy and coastal processes topics will include
marine and aquatic habitats, plate tectonics,
marine pollution, physical and chemical
parameters, deep-sea technologies and
marine and aquatic resources.
Participants also will receive training in
integrated curriculum development, Web
page construction and computational
science tools.
COAST is funded through the National
Ocean Partnership Program by the Office of
Naval Research in cooperation with the
National Marine Educators Association,
the University of Southern Mississippi and
the National Sea Grant College programs.
Information and application forms
can be obtained from Lundie Spence,
North Carolina Sea Grant, NC State
University, Box 8605, Raleigh, NC 27695
(lundie_spence@ncsu.edu) or Vicki Clark.
Virginia Sea Grant, VIMS, P.O. Box 1346,
Gloucester Point, VA 23062
(vclark@vims.edu).
The deadline for applications is April 1 .
See the COAST/Operation Pathfinder
Web site at http://www.coast-nopp.org/.
— KM.
COASTWATCH 5
A Scenic Maritime Byway
By T. Edward Nickens
Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
The
I he Intracoastal Waterway is a
3,000-mile dredged navigation channel
lying just inland of the shoreline of eastern
America. The "Big Ditch," as it is some-
times called, runs unfettered from New
York to Florida, then north and westerly
along the Gulf coast to Brownsville, Texas.
It's a critical lane of protected water that
skirts the Atlantic's storm tides and rough
seas. If you are a tugboat captain, you might
use the waterway to push barges loaded
with phosphate or pieces of a space shuttle.
If you are a shrimper, you might use the
waterway for access to inshore trawling
grounds. If you own a power or sailing
yacht, you might use the channel to make
the run from your home in the North to,
well, your other home in the Caribbean.
Or if you're like us, and what you have
is a 2 1 -foot Bayliner, a full tank of gas and
three days to bum, you might spend a few
waterway days poking around the ruins of
old logging camps and moseying through
local museums where the headliners are a
pair of fleas dressed up like a bride and
groom. You might make time to chase
rattlesnakes, eat in Victorian mansions, and
putter past decrepit fish houses and
gleaming 100-foot power yachts. And along
the way you just might get a glimpse of a
separate world that exists on the fringe of
the shore, a waterway subculture of grizzled
old misfits on gnarly boats, of million-dollar
yachts and a 3,000-mile-long neighborhood.
We set out one morning as my friend
and boat owner (a lovely combination)
Kevin Bellamy backs his runabout into the
Alligator River at the U.S. Highway 64
bridge. We are bound for Beaufort, 120
water-miles distant. Our trip will take us
from the mouth of the Alligator River to
the headwaters of the Pungo, across
Albemarle Sound and the Pamlico and
down the Adams Creek-Core Creek Canal
that connects the fresh water of the Neuse
with the brine that flows past historic
Beaufort. We have no set schedule but for
overnight berths. We have fair skies and
the promise of following seas. And we
have the good word of the U.S. Army
Corps of Engineers, the party responsible
for the Intracoastal Waterway, that as long
as we stay in the channel marked by the
various official green and red markers,
there will be plenty of water under the hull.
So I should explain why we are
searching for a way out of the famously
well-maintained waterway channel 20
minutes after pulling away from the dock. I
have heard of a water route from the river
to the site of old Buffalo City, a turn-of-
the-century lumber town deep in the
Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge.
Exploring such offbeat nooks and crannies
is one of the charms of waterway cruising.
but first we have to get through a stump-
pocked shoreline and into the rarely
plumbed waters of Milltail Creek. Bob
Webster, a brawny Roanoke Islander with
a salt-bleached cap and perpetual grin,
guides us. We motor out of the waterway
just south of day beacon 1 8 and ease our
way toward shallow water and potential
disaster. I scan the shoreline with binocu-
lars while Webster searches for a small
cleft in the trees, marked by an osprey nest
high in an old snag he recalls from an
earlier reconnaissance. We find it —
hardly as wide as our boat is long —
and hold our breath and trim the motor,
knowing that at any moment the propeller
could bury itself
into a sunken log,
sandbar or
alligator.
Then, like a
2,000-pound
canoe, our boat
drifts across the
shallow creek
mouth, through
the veil of pines
and cypress along
the shore and into
the placid waters
of Milltail Creek.
Trees clutch at our
craft from both
sides of the
channel, but when
I plunge a boat
paddle into the
tannin-stained
water, the bottom is still too far away to
touch. Bellamy drops the motor and we
cruise slowly through a canyon of dense
foliage. Butterflies flutter in front of the
boat. Paisleys of duckweed drift in the
channel. A kingfisher flits a few inches
from water like black ice, its own reflection
chasing it upstream. As we thread the
cypress-studded waters, I read aloud from
the Causing Guide to North Carolina:
"Milltail Creek is a rarely cruised stream
that should be entered only by the most
adventurous captains ... ." Bellamy grins
and guns the motor as great blue herons
Continued
COASTWATCH 7
join the kingfisher as our upstream escorts.
It isn't Webster's first visit to Milltail
Creek, but the wild solitude is still
impressive. "Back here," he says, "you'd
never know there were seven and a half
million people in the state."
But you'd also never know that
Milltail Creek was once the site of Dare
County's largest town. Around the rum of
dwindled away. The lumber company
closed its operations about 1950. Once the
saws stopped, the woods began reclaiming
its streets. Today there is little left. On
stormy days, knowing captains will thread
the tiny creek mouth to anchor out of the
wind, but mostly Buffalo City is the haunt
of herons, a little mud ramp where you can
launch a johnboat into the wide waters
Remote waterway stretches teem with wetland wildlife.
the century, the Dare Lumber Co. built a
lumber camp on the creek shore complete
with boardinghouse, hotel, bars and a
blacksmith shop. More than a thousand
people lived in the tangled wetland swamp
forests off Milltail Creek, logging out the
great stands of Atlantic white cedar. In
time, more than 100 miles of logging
railroad were laid through the Alligator's
virgin forest.
"There it is," Webster says, pointing
to a few old pilings in the woods, all that's
left of the village. "Downtown Buffalo
City." After a cholera epidemic wiped out
most of Buffalo City's workers, the town
where the creek swells into Boat Bay Lake.
But it is a fitting introduction to the
Intracoastal Waterway's charms, for this
curious boaters' highway happens to pass
through a world of startling contrasts.
The waterway isn't so much a single
lane of water carved through the coastal
plain as a collection of protected canals,
creeks, rivers and dredged navigation
channels that stitch together the open
waters of the Atlantic coastline.
In places, the waterway is as
commercialized and urban as the Norfolk
waterfront. Elsewhere it threads through
some of the most remote countryside left in
the Southeast. Ply the waterway and the
world can change dramatically, and with
startling speed. Fifteen minutes from
wetland wilderness and you can be in the
midst of massive shipyards. Squalls can
whip calm waters into roiling seas. Fog
can shroud markers. And your boat can
bump into history in the most unsus-
pected places.
We leave Webster
back at the Highway 64
bridge and turn south
for the big- water run up
the Alligator River, the
distant shores a haze of
green treetops, the
wind at our backs, the
boat sending plumes of
foam from the bow.
Channel markers far in
the distance sketch out
our route, like tiny
lighthouses strung
across the open water.
Native Americans
were the first waterway
engineers in North
Carolina, for they dug a
10- to 12-mile "haul-
over" so they could
pull their canoes across
the dry land between
Clubfoot Creek and
Harlowe Creek,
creating a link between
the Neuse and Newport
rivers. Workers in the
colonial era deepened the cut to 5 feet
with slaves, mules and sweat, cutting by
75 miles or so the water route from
Beaufort landing to New Bern.
But the great colonial effort of
channel-building was the one that carved
a water route between North Carolina
and Norfolk. Any kid in Camden
County can tell you that George
Washington helped form a company to
construct a canal linking northeastern
North Carolina and the growing
tidewater region.
Long before Valley Forge and the
White House, Washington circumnavi-
8 WINTER 1999
gated the half-million acres of tangled vine
and bog called the Great Dismal Swamp,
which lay astride the Carolina-Virginia line
His destiny as national leader usurped his
dreams of running a canal through the
Dismal, but others picked up the charge. In
1805, the 22-mile Dismal Swamp Canal
opened, connecting Deep Creek of the
Virginia tidewater with North Carolina's
Pasquotank River. Today
it is the country's oldest
man-made waterway still
in existence and a crucial
link in the Intracoastal
Waterway.
From 1814 on, an
incredible variety of boats
plied the Dismal Swamp
Canal, from barges
bearing bacon and brandy
to antebellum steamers to
steel-hulled petroleum
tankers that used the canal
during World War II to
avoid German submarines
in the Atlantic. There was
even the James Adams
Floating Theatre, a 700-
seat showboat fashioned
from a wooden barge. In
the meantime, two
centuries of efforts to drain
the swamp and convert the
land to agricultural use
were alarmingly success-
ful. Only about 107,000 of
the Dismal's original half-million acres
remain.
Such a fate has continually threatened
the sprawling pocosins south of the Alligator
River. Pocosins are a type of wetland that
once covered hundreds of thousands of acres
of Eastern North Carolina, but they have
dwindled in the face of widespread ditching
and draining. Not so the tangled thickets that
border the Alligator River-Pungo River
Canal. From the headwaters of the Alligator
we cruise along mile after mile of a stick-
straight channel that burrows through
tangled pond pines and the evergreen shrubs
of the pocosins. Deer skitter away into the
underbrush; a timber rattlesnake, thick as a
radiator hose, swims in front of the
bow. In three hours we pass houses so
widely spaced they can be counted on a
single hand.
Down the canal and into the wide
Pungo River, our route for the day
finally feeds us into the harbor at
Belhaven. It's as pretty a waterfront as
there is on the Carolina shore, built with
Scott Taylor and I shuttle duffel bags to the
"annex," where rooms have a charm all
their own, even if it is the charm of cinder-
block walls mixed with Second Empire
reproduction furnishings. We watch the
last of the day's light bleed from the Pungo
River, to be replaced by the winking lights
of a 1 16-foot yacht moored at the manor's
dock.
Greetings from the Belhaven dockmaster
timber money that poured into town
when the Roper Lumber Co. opened
mills in the 1 890s. In 1 899, company
president John Aaron Wilkinson began
construction on an imposing waterfront
mansion with an enormous curved
portico supported by towering Ionic
columns. Today his house is operated
as the River Forest Manor, a bed-and-
breakfast inn.
As luck would have it — bad luck,
that is — guest rooms in the main
manor house, with its graceful leaded
windows and carved plaster ceilings,
are all taken, so Bellamy, photographer
In the morning, we wake to skeins of
honking geese over the Pungo River and
the green hump of distant wooded points
like the prows of great ships in the early
mist. The gray-haired lady working the
morning shift at the front desk whistles at
the bill of the 8 1 -foot yacht Financial
Statement. She took on more than a
thousand gallons of diesel. I prowl the
quiet parlors of the River Forest Manor,
chuckling at the juxtapositions of mounted
elk heads and leaping swordfish on a
dining-room wall.
But the quizzical and the curious are
commonplace along the waterway. Water,
Continued
COASTWATCH 9
anywhere, in any quantity, seems to draw
the offbeat and the oddball. Add the
transient nature of the waterway's
denizens and the remoteness of the region
it travels in North Carolina, and you have
a fertile brew for oddity.
Which helps explain the Belhaven
Memorial Museum. I have heard about
the museum for years, or I should say, I
have heard about its most famous exhibit:
a pair of fleas, dressed like bride and
'Do you want this?'" explains museum
president Peg McKnight, "she never
said no."
But Way said "yes" plenty, and she
wound up with a world of weird stuff. It's
all housed in the second-floor museum:
30,000 buttons, jars of rocks and
arrowheads, stacks of old North Carolina
license plates, a watch fob made from the
first trans- Atlantic cable, a collection of
three dozen rattles from canebrake
Buttons — 30,000 of them — are a joy to Peg McKnightof the Belhaven Memorial Museum
groom and visible through a magnifying
glass. After breakfast I climb the creaky
wooden stairs of the brick Belhaven City
Hall with no small amount of anticipation
— and no small bit of snickering from
Bellamy and Taylor.
For most of her 92 years, Belhaven
resident Eva Blount Way collected the
flotsam of everyday life. Buttons, old
coins, shells, kitchen implements, her own
shoes — what began as a packrat's
passion turned into a collection of
curiosities from around the world. "If
anybody ever came to her house and said,
rattlesnakes she killed herself, the head of
a pronghorn antelope. We wander
through the mazelike exhibits, wonder-
struck one moment, cackling the next. I
finally find my finely dressed fleas, and
through the magnifying glass I can even
pick out the bride's parasol.
But when I see a hand-lettered sign
marked "Kitchen Artifacts," I realize that
there is more to this collection than just
the whimsy of an elderly lady. On
ramshackle shelves I find rows of pickled
okra and corn-on-the-cob, "put up"
chicken fat and a sealed jar of unidentifi-
able contents with a strip of masking tape
lettered "Possum and Tatoes."
It's as much a historical document as
any president's letters, for that jar of
opossum meat and (I'll bet) sweet potatoes
speaks of a time that has passed as surely
as the days of oyster tonging in the
Pamlico River.
Right there on the banks of the
waterway, I am swept back through the
years, for with one glance at the collection
of bleached pig carcasses
and coiled snakes I am
suddenly back in Mrs.
Lomax's sixth-grade
biology class, with my
desk situated next to a
hundred-foot-tall (at the
least) bookcase
chockablock with pickle
jars in which reside all
manner of beasts floating
forever in formaldehyde.
My love of natural
history was bom with my
face pushed up to those
glass doors. I'll argue
forever in favor of the
historical value of an
eight-legged pig in a
bottle of alcohol.
I've come to expect
such little epiphanies
while traveling the
Intracoastal Waterway. A
trip down this commer-
cial and cultural conidor
is nothing if not an
excuse to shed light on dusty comers of
coastal-plain history, whether you find
them along tangled blackwater rivers or
once-prosperous waterfront communities.
Like any route that traverses place, the
waterway crosses time as well. I've learned
to watch for where they intersect. Keep
your eyes ever on the channel markers, and
you'll miss the best of the waterway.
From Belhaven we head down the
wide Pungo River and into the Pamlico,
slaloming through crab pots. A shrimp
trawler pulls nets through lightly swelling
seas while an orange-bibbed waterman
10 WINTER 1999
culls the catch in the stern. Hundreds of
gulls swirl about the boat. We point the
bow south for a few long hours of big-
water crossing as we pass sailboats and
powerboats queued up across the mouth of
Pamlico Sound. These are the vanguard of
the "snowbirds," yacht owners who spend
the winters in Florida and the Caribbean
and the summers up North. Migrating up
and down the waterway with the seasonal
predictability of warblers and snow geese,
these boaters forge their
own transient community
along the Intracoastal
Waterway, trading cul-de-
sacs and block parties for
anchorage in quiet coves
and conversations in ships'
stores.
Bellamy and I tied up
once in Elizabeth City on
another waterway trip, and
we caught a glimpse of
this subculture when we
found ourselves invited to
a storied waterway
tradition: a Rose Buddies
party on the waterfront.
Each year, some 2,000
waterway boats stop for
the night at Elizabeth City,
and each time a handful of
new ships docks there a
corps of enthusiastic
waterway boosters named
the Rose Buddies springs
into action. They haul food
and drink to the water-
front, and waterway cmisers get a rare
chance to make contact other than a wave
from one boat to another.
That night, the wide Pasquotank
River unfurled at our feet like a sheet of
hammered silver, sailboats from as far
away as Key Largo, Fla., and Montauk,
N.Y., were snugged up to dock, and
Bellamy worshipped a gleaming trawler
with scrolled wooden rails. While he
joined a small group of boaters discussing
the finer points of mooring and where to
find showers along the waterway, I
sneaked about the town docks, moving
from conversations laced with an
Irishman's brogue to a New Yorker's
accent to a Virginian's soothing lilt. In
each of them was a sense of the waterway
subculture, of lives lived, for months if not
years at a time, on the move from north to
south and back again.
I talked my way aboard the
Tockwaugh, the gorgeous 42-foot Grand
Banks trawler that drew Bellamy's eye.
The boat was flying both Maryland and
other boaters' privacy." That limits
opportunities for real conversation and
makes the Rose Buddies parties one of the
few times that the waterway community
can come together.
Another way is by trading boat cards,
and she explained by showing me a
business-card file with hundreds of cards
emblazoned with illustrations of power
yachts or sailboats, their names, owners,
lengths and designs. "When we see a boat
The Elizabeth City waterfront is known for its hospitality.
Florida flags. Inside, Joan Nauta, an
amiable woman with a quick smile and an
excitement about all things boating,
explained how the waterway forms a sort
of linear neighborhood. She and her
husband Walt had made the trip down the
waterway seven times, and they had come
to relish the Rose Buddies parties. "There
is a sense of real community on the
water," she said. "You always talk to other
boaters who have a boat like yours or a
similar dinghy," and everyone helps one
another if a motor conks out or a mast
fails. "But boaters really try to respect
we recognize, we can pull the card and get
the name of the owners and hail them by
radio," she explained. "It's a fun way to
stay in touch."
As she spoke, I glanced about at a
cabin full of polished wood and
electronics. Steps dropped down to a
bedroom, and there were stacks of
newspapers and magazines strewn about
and framed pictures on the wall. Just
like home. Nauta apologized for the
clothing tossed over a chair or two,
explaining that waterway boaters "really
Continued
COASTWATCH 11
have to strip down to the basics. Life
becomes a matter of finding milk, bread
and a good laundry."
Of
'f course, we aren't traveling in
such luxury as the Tockwaugh but
nonetheless there is something decadent
about a days-long boat ride over open
water, especially when it comes during
again, the world is instantly transformed
from open sea and sky to narrow creek,
where crab pots are stacked on spits of
green marsh, awaiting orders. At the
R.E. Mayo fish house in Hobucken, a
rambling aluminum-sided structure
looming over the waterway, puppy
drum sell for $1.50 a pound and gallons
of gas for just over a buck, so we fill our
The Intracoastal Waterway is a main artery for East Coast shipping.
the workweek. We cross the mouth of
the Pamlico River, the eastern horizon
invisible as a dense haze erases the line
between sea and sky. The boat motor
thrums against the soles of my feet, the
soft thud and thunk of swells against the
hull nearly lulling me to sleep. My brain
dials down to idle, with just enough
output to keep the lungs working, keep
the knees bent just-so to absorb the
occasional swell. Bliss.
Off the shore of Goose Creek
Island we find channel marker 1 and
thread the shoals along Reed Hammock
into the mouth of Goose Creek. Once
tanks and gab about the store's collec-
tion of mounted deer heads and
selection of fishers' gloves.
Just this morning in Belhaven, I
read an interview with a Goose Creek
Islander in the Raleigh News & Ob-
server. Odell Spain was an oysterman
who grew up and fished in Hobucken.
He was the last male descendant of 200
years' worth of Spains to live in the
area. Hobucken was once a vibrant
fishing center, but no more. "I'm sad
when I see these old homes that were
once full of people, and all the families
is gone," Spain told historian David
Cecelski. "Even the homes is gone.
We're going downhill."
To be sure, there isn't much traffic
at Mayo's, but the lady behind the
counter is full of laughter. I leave
hoping such a disposition will help
sustain the waterway landmark, but the
empty parking lot and lifeless docks are
hardly positive signs.
As we pull away
from the gas dock, we
putter past a sleek,
pencil-thin sailboat. I
have learned on these
waterway cruises that
when you are on a boat,
all other boats become
objects of intense
scrutiny. To outsiders,
this has all the appear-
ances of envy, and
sometimes it is
precisely that. Most
times, though, it is just
a kind of deep interest
in all things floating.
We parse the sailboat's
lines, wonder what it
would be like to take on
heavy seas in the boat,
how the decks would
fare in rollers.
The owner sticks
his head out of a hatch
and says, "1904!" just
loud enough for us to
hear, knowing that we
are smitten by his craft. In the small
creek nearby we slow to study the flared
bow of a small wooden trawler and
wonder if she was built in some
waterman's back yard up Snode Creek
or Mill Seat Landing. Not many boats
like her are around, and few new ones
to take her place.
From Hobucken, the waterway
courses a few miles farther down a
man-made canal, then pours into the
estuarine waters of the Bay River. But
two miles wide, such protected waters
can be deceiving. Once, on a run down
the waterway where it bisects Currituck
12 WINTER 1999
Sound, we picked our way through grass
beds and sand flats to find a wide bay in
which to spend the night. The sun set
over calm waters while Bellamy fired up
a grill. I tossed out the anchor and
unloaded marinated steaks from the
cooler. We ate under a bright half moon,
then crawled into sleeping bags stretched
out on the boat.
When I woke,
however, it was not to a
sublime sunrise but to
black sky and Bellamy's
voice straining over a
lashing wind and
whitecaps pounding the
boat hull. "Get the
anchor!" he screamed
from the stern. "We gotta
get into deeper water!" A
rising, violent wind had
pushed us toward the
shore. I leapt to the bow
and grabbed the taut
anchor line, yelling
instructions to Bellamy
as he eased the boat into
the chop to lessen the
tension on the rope.
"Forward! Forward!
Now to the right!" I
screamed directions over
my shoulder and hauled
rope hand over hand.
Three times we
were down to the last
few feet of line, but each
time the gale caught the bow and
whipped it past the buried anchor, ripping
the rope from my grip and burning my
palms. On the fourth try Bellamy
expertly gunned the motor to counter the
raging wind, and I finally wrenched the
anchor from the mud and heaved it
aboard, my arms and legs shaking with
fatigue. Only then did I realize that I was
standing on the bow in sodden socks and
boxer shorts, the rising sun cracking over
Currituck Sound in front of me.
It took us another hour to claw
through heavy seas and shallow water
back to the waterway, where I wormed
into my sleeping bag and huddled
behind the windshield as Bellamy
threaded us through white-capped froth.
No such trouble is in store on our
Neuse River crossing. From the mouth
of the Bay River we set a compass
course for 120 degrees and plane over
gentle swells toward the channel marker
at the Neuse River junction, two miles
what longtime waterway cruisers know
so intimately. The smokestack of a long-
vanished menhaden plant looms ahead,
a beacon from the past, and I realize that
this waterway road trip is nearly over.
But in my hands, in the chart book we
used to plot our course, the telltale
purple line that marks the Intracoastal
Waterway skirts south farther still,
On waterway cruises, all boats become objects of intense scrutiny.
from land. Bellamy and I have spent
long tortuous hours on a wind-whipped
Neuse, but this time the water is like a
silk blanket. Plains of flax-colored
marsh stretch to the eastern horizon.
We take a break in the peaceful
little sailing village of Oriental, then
skirt through the Adams Creek-Core
Creek Canal. We have only the quick
crossing of the Newport River to funnel
us into Beaufort Harbor, perhaps one of
the best-loved of the intimate waterway
harbors in the route's 3,000 miles.
It is at Phillips Island, in the
Newport marshes, that I am struck with
behind Bogue Banks and around
Onslow Bay, to Cape Fear and Cape
Romain, to the Sea Islands of Georgia
and around the horn of Florida.
As we motor through the familiar
waters of Taylor Creek, along the
Beaufort waterfront, I figure out perhaps
the finest thing about the Intracoastal
Waterway — finer than its endless
parade of boats, finer still than its entree
into lands of endless sky and marsh. It is
that every waterway trip's end, no
matter the port or harbor, is simply the
beginning of another one waiting to be
taken. □
COASTWATCH 13
ouston Lewis stoops over an
unfinished wooden boat in a high-
ceilinged garage. With his weathered
hands, he sands each side, inch by inch,
for almost an hour.
Nearby, his brother Jamie Lewis
uses a small hand plane to smooth a
piece of wood.
Inside the hollow hull of the
sportfishing boat, James Lewis Jr.,
Jamie's son, tinkers with a sensor that
will be installed on the boat's bottom to
detect fish.
Each day, members of the Lewis
family work side by side sculpting their
prized boats. By fastening planks and
frames one piece at a time, they are
keeping alive a Harkers Island tradition
that has survived for generations.
When crafting boats, the Lewis
brothers rely on skill and materials at
hand. Lots of white juniper. Ingenious
tools. Precise measurements. Intensive
hand work. No telephone or fax
machine.
The Lewis brothers build most
boats by a time-honored technique
called "rack of eye." It takes the eyes of
master craftsmen like Jamie and
Houston Lewis to see that a boat has the
right dimensions and design, says Roger
Allen, curator of boatbuilding technol-
ogy at the N.C. Maritime Museum in
Beaufort. "Generally, if it looks right to
an experienced eye, it will be right in the
water," he says.
For wooden workboats used by
shrimpers and fishers, the Lewis family
uses the Harkers Island or Carolina
design, recognized along the East Coast
for its wooden hull and flared bow.
"When we first started, all of our
boats were workboats for people in the
boating community," says Houston
Lewis, who carves decoys as a hobby.
"Now, fishermen are struggling. We
hardly ever build fishing boats. We
build more pleasure boats."
The pleasure boats are usually
sportfishing vessels, also called "sports-
wkef&Mlw& Boatbuilders Keep Tradition Alive
"Building boats is a craft," says
Jamie Lewis, who has been building
boats for more than 40 years. "Not
everybody can do it. You have to have
in mind what you want to do. I don't use
blueprints. For big boats, we sketch
something out."
fishermen." The boats are made out of
juniper wood and coated with fiberglass
on the sides and bottom. "Fiberglass
seals the boat better, but it requires more
work," says Houston Lewis. "You have
to do a lot of hand sanding and rubbing
to make it sleek and shiny."
Continued
COASTWATCH 15
Julian Guthrie is a boatbuilding legend.
East Bay Boat Works specializes in sportfishing boats and small yachts.
Lewis Brothers is one of three full-
time boatbuilding businesses left on
Harkers Island, a small community 20
miles east of Beaufort. Dozens of other
islanders build their own boats in their
back yards. "There are a lot of people on
the island who can build boats but are
doing something else to make a living,"
says Jamie Lewis. "Down the road on the
other side of the gray house, a man is
building a 55-foot shrimp trawler in his
back yard."
Their metal boat shed is cluttered with
tools, rusted paint cans, a mounted squirrel,
a plastic duck decoy and pieces of juniper,
also called soft juniper or cedar. Phil
Lewis, a cousin, pounds a nail into a
wooden skiff while Jamie, Houston and
James swap boatbuilding stories during a
coffee break.
"I've been helping my cousin at
night" says Jamie Lewis, who built his
first boat — a 1 7-foot flounder boat —
when he was 17.
Jamie also passes on his secrets of the
trade to his son, who joined the business
after high school. "I never took a carpentry
class," says James Lewis. "I just learned
from my father and uncle. It is all I grew up
around. Now, my 7-year-old son is helping
us paint boats in the summer."
Outside the garage, a handful of boats
fill the yard, including an old wooden
workboat built in the 1970s by Burgess
Lewis, Jamie and Houston's father. "This is
a regular Harkers Island boat with a round
stem," says Houston Lewis. "Several years
ago, we reworked it with fiberglass."
Although they don't keep records on
their boats, Jamie Lewis estimates they
have built between 100 and 200 work and
sportfishing boats.
They charge an hourly rate, and the
customer furnishes the materials. "Just
make a living," says Jamie Lewis. "Just
make a week's work like someone on a
regular job."
The Lewis family lives near the boat
shed on Harkers Island, which was bought
by Ebenezer Harker in 1730. Many
residents from the Shackleford Banks
whaling community of Diamond City
moved to Harkers Island after their village
was hit by a hurricane in 1 899. These
skilled whalers brought with them a vast
knowledge of boatbuilding techniques.
Brady Lewis — no relation to
Houston and Jamie — was considered the
island patriarch of boatbuilding. Developer
of the Harkers Island style, Brady Lewis
taught the craft to Julian Guthrie, who in
rum became a legend in the business.
Guthrie, 84, is retired from the
business. At age 10, he built his first
sailboat out of rot-resistant juniper and oak
found in the nearby maritime forest.
For more than 25 years, he owned Hi-
Tide Boatworks in Williston where he built
a variety of boats — from sailing skiffs to
luxury yachts. His customers came from as
far away as Maine and Florida.
Guthrie, who stopped building boats
when he suffered a stroke, often used his
ingenuity in design. In 1982, he built a 65-
foot yacht around a piano. He also
constructed three-masted sharpie schoo-
ners and a ferry that still runs from Davis to
Core Banks.
16 WINTER 1999
At Lewis Brothers on Harkers Island, sportfishing vessels have a shiny, sleek finish.
"Daddy was real diversified," says
Eddie Guthrie, Julian's son. "He was
always willing to try new techniques and
designs. The crown jewel of his work was
the Allison, a 72-foot custom sportfishing
boat that cost $1.5 million in 1981."
Over the years, Guthrie has received
numerous awards, including the first
Living Treasure of North Carolina Award
from the University of North Carolina at
Wilmington in 1988 and the prestigious
N.C. Arts Council Folk Heritage Award in
1993.
"Julian Guthrie is important for the
boatbuilding tradition in North Carolina,"
says Allen. "He went from being a lone
boatbuilder in a one-man boat shop to
being a creative force behind a crew that
built and exported luxury yachts."
While Guthrie's business was
thriving, other Harkers Island residents
learned the trade.
Alex Willis, who has a full-time
boatbuilding business on Harkers Island,
learned the craft from his father. "Dad had
a boat shed three times as big as mine," he
says. "When I was 11,1 began helping him
on weekends and evenings in the back yard
of our house."
Willis, the grandson of patriarch
Brady Lewis, thinks you have to be "bom
up in boatbuilding" to master the craft.
"You can't teach someone who is 30 or 35
about boatbuilding," he says. "It's not like
building a house. Nothing is square. Every
frame is cut differently."
His first boat was the Joyce Moore, an
80-foot shrimp trawler built with his father.
Later, Willis began specializing in
sportfishing boats that sell for $300,000 to
$325,000 to customers as far away as
Alaska.
Now, he is working on a 42-foot
sportfishing boat in his blue and white
garage, which smells like fresh cedar. Piles
of sawdust cover the floor around the boat.
An array of tools is scattered about,
including an old handsaw used by his
grandfather.
Willis employs two other men in his
shop. Over the years, he has had trouble
getting help. "I look at it as a dying trade,"
he says. "The younger generation doesn't
want to do it. It is too much work for them.
I have young boys work with me and quit
in a week or two."
About a mile from Willis' boat shop
on East Bay, Ricky Gillikin runs the largest
and most modem boatbuilding business
on the island. At East Bay Boat Works,
which consists of three building sheds,
20 employees custom-build sportfishing
boats and small yachts.
Gillikin has merged traditional
boatbuilding with modem techniques.
"We combine the best of both worlds by
using wood and fiberglass," he says.
"However, my brother James still uses
juniper on his sportsfishing vessels."
When a customer orders a boat,
Gillikin draws the design on paper. Then
he makes a one-of-a-kind mold from triple
layers of laminated wood and fiberglass
with high-tech fabrics. "The hull is built
upside down," he says. "Then we pull the
boat out and flip her over."
In one of the East Bay boat sheds, a
Continued
COASTWATCH 17
When crafting a sportfishing vessel, Alex Willis carefully measures each piece of wood.
sportfishing convertible with a half
tower takes shape. Next to it is a 50-foot
express boat being built for a New
Jersey man.
Inside the sportfishing boat,
employees hand rub the walls and
cabinets in the stateroom with Murphy's
Oil Soap. The boat, which will sleep up
to six people, will be equipped with a
television and other modern conve-
niences. "This boat will be real fancy
and like a home," says Gillikin. "It's all
custom-built. The owner will be taking
it to fishing tournaments."
Since the vessels are so large and
custom-made, it takes from 12 to 18
months to build one. "So much thinking
and planning goes into a boat," says
Gillikin. "Sometimes, we put 15,000
man-hours on a boat. Now we can work
on up to four boats at one time."
Because of the labor required, the
boats are quite expensive. "These boats
are a rich man's toy," he says. "Our
boats can go for up to a $1 million. We
sell to people who want a fast boat that
will help them raise big fish and come in
fast from shore."
East Bay Boat Works was started in
1971 by Ricky Gillikin' s father, Vance,
and his partner Mervin Rose. Later,
Ricky Gillikin and his brother bought
the business. They started out making
river and head boats from juniper. In
1986, the Gillikins expanded into
sportfishing boats and luxury yachts.
"The boatbuilding business was
dying out in the 1980s," says Gillikin.
"It was more feasible to build
sportfishing boats and small yachts. So
we diversified. Traditional wooden
boats are not as strong and are slower
than our boats."
Like the other boatbuilders on
Harkers Island, Gillikin sells his boats
by word of mouth instead of advertising.
"We strive to put out a good product.
Our boats are faster than a lot of boats
built by major manufacturers and burn
less fuel because they are lighter boats.
Every boat is one of a kind." □
18 WINTER 1999
Built in North Carolina
If you are in the market for a luxury
pleasure boat, you can likely find a North
Carolina-made vessel to fit your needs —
or your dreams.
"The boatbuilding industry is a
growing economy in North Carolina," says
Mike Bradley, director of N.C. Marine
Trade Services.
"In the last few
years, we've had
the greatest
expansion of
boatbuilding
production and
new boatbuilders
in North Caro-
lina"
Today, there
are more than 75
boatbuilders in
North Carolina
constructing a
variety of
recreational
vessels — from
small skiffs and
kayaks to luxury
yachts.
Last fall,
Tiara Yachts, a
division of S2 Yachts Inc. in Holland,
Mich., opened a facility in Swansboro to
make the 5000 Express, a 50-foot cruising
yacht with a base price of $830,000.
David Slikkers, president of Tiara
Yachts, says the company came to
Swansboro because of the experienced
work force in the area "We are very labor
intensive and needed a talented work
force," says Slikkers. "We also got a lot of
support from Swansboro, Onslow County
and state officials."
The company now employs about 50
people. "Over the next 24 to 36 months, we
expect to expand up to 200 employees," he
says. "We hope to add one new model a
year to our product line in Swansboro."
Another boating manufacturer new to
North Carolina is World Class Catamarans.
By Ann Green
About 1 8 months ago, the company opened
a facility in Greenville to manufacture
power catamaran fishing boats retailing
from $55,000 to $75,000. "We've had
phenomenal growth," says Forrest Munden,
company chairman. "The first year we sold
out of all three models. Last year, sales were
World Class Catamarans will expand its North Carolina operation.
higher than projected by 100 percent."
In fact, World Class Catamarans is
expanding so fast the company now has a
new 121,000-square-foot facility in Tarboro.
"The good economy is helping our
business," says Munden. "Currently, we
employ 125 people. With our expansion, we
hope to employ an additional 200 people
over the next 24 months."
In 1993, the repeal of the federal luxury
tax — a 10 percent tax on luxury items
more than $100,000 — allowed boating
manufacturers to recover from a near-fatal
sales level, says Bryant Phillips, senior vice
president of sales and marketing for Hatteras
Yachts in New Bern. "With the strength of
the economy and rise of the stock market —
coupled with new models — Hatteras
Yachts is coming on strong," says Phillips.
As a result of the increased demand
for boats, the value of boatbuilding and
repair shipments in North Carolina
jumped from $227.7 million in 1993-
1994 to $275. 1 million in 1995-1996,
according to the U.S. Department of
Commerce's Annual Survey of Manufac-
turers. In
addition, the
number of
people
employed in
boatbuilding
in North
Carolina has
swelled to
20,000, says
Bradley.
Hatteras
Yachts, the
largest boat
manufacturer
in the state,
has about 850
employees.
The company
makes more
than 20
models of
sportfishing
convertible and cruising yachts that cost
$1 million to $7 million.
Grady White, which manufactures
sportfishing boats that range in price from
$14,500 to $101,000, employs about 400
people at its Greenville facility.
A few miles away in Washington,
300 employees at Fountain Powerboats
make high-performance pleasure boats
that retail from $50,000 to $1.5 million.
The boats are used for offshore racing,
sportfishing and cruising.
With the quality of the work force in
North Carolina and easy access to water
along the coast, Bradley sees a bright
future for the state's boatbuilding industry.
"Within the next two years, we expect to
have 500 new jobs in boatbuilding and
boat repairs," he says. □
COASTWATCH 19
uilding a boat requires logic,
precision and three-dimensional visualiza-
tion. It requires concentration, commitment
and perseverance. It requires sharp
instruments, power tools and manual labor.
hi other words, building a boat is
contrary to my character, my experience
and my philosophy opposing hard work.
Yet I, who have never built so much as a
birdhouse before, whose creativity has
been confined to the printed page, I will
build a boat
Thanks to the N.C. Maritime
Museum's Harvey W. Smith Watercraft
Center, I will build a beautiful little
wooden boat. I will name it Water Lily.
It will be a pleasure to look at and a joy
to sail.
For me to build this boat is a minor
miracle. It is an unparalleled adventure in
learning. It is a total immersion in a cedar-
scented traditional boat shop. And it is an
unforgettable experience hard to come by
in these high-tech times.
Foitunately, some people, such as
those at the watercraft center, still consider
the knowledge worth preserving and
wooden boats worth building.
The watercraft center conducts a
range of traditional boatbuilding courses,
including the class that results in Water
Lily. Wooden boat designs important to
North Carolina's maritime history also
are built or restored in the cavernous
quarters overlooking Front Street and
Taylors Creek.
Roger Allen is my instructor, mentor
and cheerleader in building Water Lily.
Allen has been curator of boatbuilding
technology at the watercraft center since
it opened in 1992. He started working
with wooden boats in Philadelphia on the
1887 ship Gazella Primiero, a 157-foot
Portuguese barkentine. He came to
Beaufort from the Philadelphia Maritime
Museum.
Although Allen has had a hand in
building 250 or so boats, he seems
delighted as I watch mine emerge from the
pile of plywood and puffs of sawdust He
is a patient, good-humored and open-
minded teacher. The only thing he insists I
do his way is to fold a half-sheet of
sandpaper into thirds. His unstated
requisites: Enjoy your work. Be good to
your tools.
It is Allen who convinces me that I
can, in fact should, build this boat. I am
enchanted with sailing small boats. I
particularly admire the Nutshell Pram
design, a cheerful-looking rowing and
sailing dinghy often used as a yacht tender.
Its lines curve up at both bow and stem,
like a lopsided grin. It rocks lightly on the
water when idle, as if it can't wait to go
sailing.
The Nutshell is the creation of Joel
White, who died in 1997, much to the
sorrow of the traditional boat community.
White is known for the elegant simplicity
of his designs and his advocacy of wooden
boats. The Nutshell is among his most
Continued
well-known works. WoodenBoat
magazine has sold more than
1 ,500 sets of plans for it, in the 9-
foot-6-inch version, which I build,
and also in the 7-foot-7-inch
length.
To buy one of these vessels
already built is beyond the tax
bracket of a free-lance writer. To
build one myself is a preposterous
proposal until a casual conversa-
tion with Allen takes a momen-
tous rum. The Nutshell is his
favorite design for the
boatbuilding courses. We talk
about its superb qualities.
"Take the course and build
one," he says. I scoff. He insists. I
point out my past is devoid of
woodworking and I am inept with
tools. He shrugs and says it
doesn't matter. I argue I would
make a mess of measuring
because I am mathematically
dyslexic.
"Boatbuilders hate math," he
says. That does it. I sign up.
I have another motive
besides the boat. I long for tool
literacy and the self-sufficiency it
promises. Most students do not have this
tool deprivation syndrome. Though I am
not the first female, enrollees are generally
men who know their way around a shop.
Allen assures me even housebuilders
have no advantage when it comes to
boatbuilding. Building a boat is not like
building anything else. Boats are all curves
and angles.
Still, I feel ill-equipped even after two
preparatory courses. I hope the four other
students will pick up the slack. Only one,
however, shows up. He is committed to
building a canoe.
I am alone with the would-be Water
Lily. Well, not really. Allen is beside me
much of the time, explaining the next step
and what it means to the boat.
In boatbuilder terms, the Nutshell is of
lapstrake construction. That means its
planks overlap. The technique dates to the
Vikings and is capitalized on with modem
Staff and volunteers at the watercraft center share knowledge
and praise as Powers brings Water Lily to life.
materials in the Nutshell. The seams are
fortified with epoxy. The hull is marine-
grade mahogany plywood — tough,
lightweight and water-resistant.
The Nutshell is a pram. Its hull planks
join a transom at the bow instead of
tapering to a point. The squared-off style is
distinctive. Someone says my boat is a
twin to the wooden shoe Wynken,
Blynken and Nod sail in the nursery
rhyme. I take it as a compliment.
Besides offering a look I like, the
pram bow gives the boat a large capacity
for the length, and it's easier to build than a
pointy one.
Of course, "easier" is a relative
concept in boatbuilding. I am over-
whelmed with unfamiliar terms and tools
the first days. Even the directions are
foreign to my ways. I prefer printed text as
a means of instruction. Here, I have only
drawings and patterns to tell me
what to do and Allen's demon-
strations to learn how.
Mostly, my mission is to
pursue complete — and elusive
— compatibility among the
boat's many parts. I saw, plane,
bevel, chisel and sand, seeking
harmony wherever two surfaces
meet.
I am awkward with the
hand tools, timid with the power
saws. I cringe at the potential for
disaster as I drill holes for bronze
screws. Progress is maddeningly
slow, made even more so by
mistakes. I must cut a new bow
transom when the first mysteri-
ously rums out asymmetrical.
The forekeel gets stuck to the
mold when I am too liberal with
epoxy. I also epoxy some of my
hair. It seems I spend half my
time correcting errors. Allen
assures me this is normal.
"Boatbuilding is problem-
solving," he says whenever I am
frustrated. It is a triumph when I
suspect the keel's curve isn't
quite true before I cut it and find
a misread fraction in the
dimensions. I realize I am solving — and
avoiding — problems. I am flattered when
Allen says I am thinking like a boatbuilder.
In fact, I hardly think of anything
except boatbuilding. I don't open mail. I
don't return calls. Friends wonder if I have
gone to sea. Not quite, but I am in a
different world. Dozens of tourists who
pause, enthralled, at the big front doors
every day remind me just how extraordi-
nary my environment is.
"Look," I hear over and over again.
"They build boats here!"
It is a bit unnerving at first to work in
such a public place, but I am soon too
engrossed to notice the flashbulbs. In a
pleasant way, the building of my little boat
seems everybody's business. Wood in the
shape of a boat has an irresistible magnetic
effect on the human hand and eye. Water
Lily develops a following of local self-
22 WINTER 1999
described "boat
groupies." I often
look up to find
someone caressing
the laminated
sassafras frame or
the sanded cedar
seats.
Water Lily
shares the construc-
tion floor with a 28-
foot-9-inch sharpie,
a historic design
being built by
watercraft center
volunteers.
Generous with
time and talents,
many in this
laudable squadron contribute much to
Water Lily. Not only do they help me with
countless tasks, they share their doughnuts
at break time.
It is a friendly and fun place. Allen, the
other student and I make up a silly little song
about lamination — gluing thin strips of
wood together for frames. We sing it often.
The course runs for 16 days in a row
— not enough time for one slow student.
But thanks to help from Allen, shop
technician William Prentice, volunteers and
friends, most major construction is done.
It's good I don't know how much work is
still ahead.
It takes the better part of six more
weeks to bring Water Lily to launching.
Despite growing competence and confi-
dence, there are trying times.
"The devil is in the details," Allen
says. I am bedeviled. It seems I have miles
of edges to shape and acres of surface area
to prep and sand. And sand. And sand. My
significant other takes pity and pitches in.
Still, my hands ache, my sinuses swell and
my spirit wilts in the sanding dust.
Finally, it is time to trade the sandpa-
per for paint rollers. I get my first glimpse
of the boat I have envisioned — green and
white, with varnished transoms and trim. I
am ecstatic.
The painting epiphany invigorates me
for the last hectic days. We plan to launch
Patience is the key to finding the exact fit for the forward quarter knee,
the boat at the annual in- water meeting of
the Traditional Small Craft Association, a
group of wooden boat fans affiliated with
the Friends of the Museum.
Water Lily isn't done until 6 p.m. on
the eve of the meet. "Done" is another
relative concept in boatbuilding. There are
minor matters to tend to, but she is ready to
be launched. We put up the mast and hang
the rudder as she sits on sawhorses in the
shop. Then we hoist the sail — sewn in
another watercraft center class — and
stand back for the first look.
The effect is stunning. Allen shakes
my hand. I shake my head in disbelief.
The next day on the shores of Bogue
Sound, the bright new boat sparkles in the
sunshine. Admirers gather. Water Lily is
bound to be the belle of the ball. The
builder matches the boat. I have dried paint
on my knees and varnish on my ankle.
I worry the audience will pick out the
imperfections such as the ill-fitting cleat I
fashion at the last minute. But it isn't that
kind of crowd. These people know what it
takes to build a boat. They heap on praise.
They also understand my seeming lack of
humility. They know it is awe, not
arrogance, that makes me agree with all
compliments.
The boat launching is a joyful
occasion. There is much applause as I pour
a bottle of Perrier over her bow, christen
her Water Lily and
ask the sea gods to be
kind.
I invite Allen to
join me for the first
sail, and we set off
past the moored fleet
of grand wooden
sharpies and spritsail
skiffs. It is a sweet,
sweet moment when
Water Lily meets her
elements of water and
wind for the first time.
She proves she is not
just a pretty face. She
sails gloriously.
Back at the dock,
a line forms for a turn
at the tiller. I try to be magnanimous. But I
surreptitiously check credentials: "Is he a
good sailor?" I ask in low tones as the next
person casts off.
Finally, I decide Water Lily is meant
to be on the water, not on display. How-
ever lovely, she is a boat, not a piece of
fragile art.
I take good care of Water Lily but let
her be a boat. She does the not-so-glorious
things boats do. She goes aground. She goes
adrift. She capsizes.
Though I might curse when her
daggerboard finds an oyster shell or her
varnished guardrails scrape a dock, I don't
despair over these perils. I can fix or make
new whatever gets damaged, broken or lost.
I can build another boat.
I'm a boatbuilder now. □
The lapstrake boatbuilding course is
one of several classes offered by the Hairey
W. Smith Watercraft Center. Tuition is $340.
Boatbuilding cwpentty is a required
prerequisite; the lofting course to transfer
scale drawings intofidl-size patterns is
recommended. Both are two-day courses on
weekends. Tuition for the carpentiy course
is $90; lofting tuition is $60. Friends of the
Museum receive tuition discounts.
For a full schedule, contact the N.C.
Maritime Museum, 315 Front St., Beaufort,
NC 28516 or phone 252/728-731 7.
COASTWATCH 23
Scott D. Taylor
Erosion-Control Options:
Revising Regulations
to Preserve our Estuaries
By Renee Wolcott Shannon
Riprap revetments, like this one on Taylor Creek in Beaufort,
may become easier to install under revised regulations
THERE'S A
BEAUTIFUL HOME
on the Pasquotank River
— a long, low ranch half-
hidden by trees. Walls of
windows blink from the
cool shade. A green lawn
punctuated by exclamation
points of pampas grass
slopes to the water, where
the wakes of passing boats
lap against a wooden
bulkhead.
Homesites like this
one were less common 20
years ago, when few
people lived near the
estuaries. But in the last
two decades, the shores of North
Carolina's estuaries have seen a popula-
tion and building boom that has sprinkled
the shorelines with homes, businesses and
docks.
This rapid development has state
regulators reconsidering the policies that
shape construction along our estuaries.
With more people living, farming and
building on North Carolina's 4,000 miles
of estuarine shoreline, water quality and
environmental conservation in the
estuaries have become a pressing concern
for the N.C. Coastal Resources Commis-
sion and the Division of Coastal Manage-
ment.
PROTECTING
WATERFRONT
PROPERTY
a the estuaries, erosion is a
constant problem. Wind, waves and boat
wakes eat away at exposed shorelines,
aided by the slow rise of sea level. To
protect their land, property owners often
apply for permits to build shoreline
stabilization structures at the water's edge.
In North Carolina vertical wooden
bulkheads traditionally have been the
most popular way to protect valuable
waterfront property. Riprap revetments,
Fairfield Harbor, built before the Coastal Area Management Act,
demonstrates how bulkheads can profoundly change
the estuarine environment.
which use large boulders to stabilize a
graded bank, are another option. Even for
those without erosion concerns, hardened
shorelines can provide level ground to
anchor a pier or establish flat lawns.
Under current regulations, property
owners can get general permits for
bulkheads and other erosion-control
structures along estuaries as long as the
Division of Coastal Management approves
the structure's location. General permits
incorporate certain restrictions: Bulkheads
must be landward of coastal wetlands or
submerged aquatic vegetation, and property
owners usually can extend bulkheads no
more than two feet past the mean high
water line. Special exceptions allow
property owners to extend bulkheads farther
to reclaim any land they have lost in the past
year, which can be a significant amount
after hurricanes like Fran or Bonnie.
Since a bulkhead requires only a
general permit, property owners can often
set up a site inspection with a division field
representative and get a permit the same
day. Those who don't have erosion
problems can still build because of an
exemption allowing bulkheads above the
mean high water line. Since 1978, when it
began issuing Coastal Area Management
Act (CAMA) permits, the Division of
Coastal Management reports that it has
issued permits for more
than 200 miles of
bulkhead — enough to
stretch from Raleigh to
Manteo.
Other erosion-control
options, such as certain
riprap revetments and
marsh grading and
planting projects, have
been harder to obtain.
While general permit
applications for bulkheads
cost $50 and are often
granted in a day, the major
permit applications for
revetments and other
alternatives cost $250 and
take anywhere from 75 to 150 days to
process.
The general permit is an "expedited
form of the major permit" says Alison
Davis, public information officer for the
Division of Coastal Management. "They
apply to cases where the environmental
effects of construction are already known
and considered to be minor."
Major permits, like those for revet-
ments below the mean high water line, take
longer to process because they must
circulate through 10 state and four federal
agencies for comment. 'Those agencies
might have concerns about the project that
the division isn't aware of," says Davis.
REVISING THE
REGULATIONS
Growing public concern about
estuarine water quality and habitat loss has
now prompted the Coastal Resources
Commission to review the regulations
governing construction on the estuaries.
The review process is lengthy and open to
the public through hearings in each of the
20 CAMA counties; any revised regulations
would not go into effect until the year 2000.
The proposed changes would increase
the setbacks for building along the estuaries.
Continued
COASTWATCH 25
decrease the amount of impervi-
ous or built-upon area allowed on
waterside property and establish
buffers along the estuarine
shoreline, as well as set different
standards for erosion control
permits.
"'People said, 'Why do we
have this no-hardening rule on the
oceanfront but not in the estuar-
ies?'" says Bill Crowell, cumula-
tive impacts analyst for the
Division of Coastal Management.
Oceanfront stabilization has
been prohibited since the late
1970s, when concern over beach erosion
prompted the Coastal Resources Commis-
sion to write regulations banning the
armoring of waterfront properties. Rigid
structures that extend into the water trap
sand from the longshore current and prevent
it from settling out on the properties
immediately "downstream," starving them
of sand.
Water hitting bulkheads or seawalls
can also promote erosion during storms,
since the force of waves is transferred
downward and to either side of the structure.
Over time, the dry sand beach at the toe of a
bulkhead is eroded away. Hardened
shorelines also prevent the natural inland
and southward migration of beaches that
allows the Outer Banks to strike their
dynamic equilibrium with the sea.
Now the Coastal Resources Commis-
sion is taking a long, hard look at shorelines
in the estuaries. While oceanfront regula-
tions are meant to preserve beaches for
public recreation, regulations for the
estuaries seek to preserve critical marshes
and intertidal areas that are the foundations
of coastal water quality and estuarine food
chains. Here, where fresh and salt water
mix, marsh grasses and an undulating
shoreline create a safe haven for juvenile
species such as blue crabs, shrimp and
striped bass. Ninety percent of commercial
fishing species and 65 percent of recre-
ational species spend some part of their lives
in estuaries, seeking shelter from predators
as they grow to maturity.
Marshes and intertidal areas are
a critical habitat for many juvenile species.
Marshes also absorb pollutants from
runoff and dampen the force of incoming
waves, lessening erosion. If shoreline
stabilization results in the loss of these
marshes, estuarine water quality declines
and many species lose a crucial habitat.
The proposed rules seek to preserve
fringing marshes as much as possible and to
avoid the negative effects hardened
shorelines can produce. The proposed rules
from the Coastal Resources Commission
would establish a hierarchy of erosion-
control methods that ranks alternative
methods above the more traditional
bulkheading. "We're trying to tailor
shoreline stabilization methods to particular
sites using a tiered approach," Davis says.
Under the proposed rules, Division of
Coastal Management field representatives
would visit sites to determine the erosion-
control method most compatible with the
location. Those with no erosion problems
would be prohibited from building hard
structures. For remaining sites, representa-
tives would inspect the landforms and water
characteristics at the site, including wave
energy and fetch. Fetch refers to the distance
waves can travel and build in size before
reaching the shoreline.
In sites with sloping shorelines,
existing marshes or limited fetch, property
owners would be encouraged to plant marsh
grasses or cultivate the existing marsh to
anchor the shoreline and to dampen the
force of incoming waves. Areas with higher
wave energy or steeper shorelines might
require breakwaters or stone in
addition to the marsh grasses, or
riprap revetments along a graded
bank. "We've proposed a new
general permit for riprap to make
it easier to install," Davis says.
Vertical walls would only
be permitted in existing narrow
canals or locations where marsh
plantings or sloping structures
would not be practical for
erosion control.
EROSION-CONTROL
OPTIONS
Rigid structures in estuaries can have
negative effects. Like their oceanfront
counterparts, estuarine bulkheads promote
scour at the toe of the structure and
increase erosion of the unprotected land to
either side. They also reduce habitat for
juvenile animals that come to the estuaries
to mature. A 1995 study in Lake Conroe,
Texas, found far fewer juvenile and adult
fish in front of bulkheads than in front of
sloping riprap revetments. Riprap
structures, which have cracks and crevices
between rocks instead of a smooth surface,
provide a better habitat for animals but
prevent marshes from migrating inland just
as bulkheads do. Marsh grasses waterward
of any rigid structures are likely to be
drowned. The treated wood used to build
bulkheads also can transfer arsenic and
other toxic chemicals to the environment.
Despite these shortcomings, rigid
structures and bulkheads in particular are
sometimes the best option for certain
shorelines. Spencer Rogers, coastal
construction and erosion specialist for
North Carolina Sea Grant believes the
environmental impact of erosion-control
structures is largely determined by their
distance from the water.
"The toe of the structure should be as
far landward as possible to minimize its
impact" says Rogers. "Sloping structures
or revetments must be wide to function
properly, but narrow vertical structures
such as bulkheads can be readily moved
26 WINTER 1999
farther landward." If property
owners installed bulkheads farther
from the water, they would
decrease the environmental
impact on the estuary.
Tracy Skrabal, a scientist
with the North Carolina Coastal
Federation, disagrees with
Rogers' approach, though she
admits rigid structures would have
less environmental impact if
property owners moved them
landward. "That works great in
theory," she says. "But nobody is
willing to do that in practice. Most
people put bulkheads out as far as they are
allowed and fill in behind them."
The Coastal Federation is a nonprofit
environmental advocacy group that urges
developers to build as far from the
shoreline as possible so that the natural
inland migration of wetlands can continue.
Where homes already exist close to the
water's edge, the Coastal Federation
promotes marsh-grass planting as the
optimal method for shoreline stabilization.
Skrabal heads the Shorekeeper
Project, which restores shorelines through
grading, planting marsh grasses and
stabilizing with limited amounts of rock, if
necessary. Volunteers do all the work in
the yards of participating homeowners.
The Coastal Federation hopes its
marsh-planting efforts will demonstrate
alternative strategies to property owners,
restore estuarine habitat, stop erosion and
ensure better water quality along the coast.
Since planting marsh grass does not require
a permit (though grading and adding riprap
would), planting marshes or cultivating
existing wetlands costs property owners
more effort than money. Individual plants
cost 40 cents and are spaced 18 inches
apart, making planting marshes more
economical than vertical walls or revet-
ments, which may cost $50 to $100 per
linear foot.
Still, marsh grasses alone are not
enough to stabilize many estuarine
shorelines. Rogers has helped to develop a
low-cost erosion-control alternative that
Planting marsh grass decreases erosion
along low-energy shorelines.
makes use of marsh vegetation in combina-
tion with vertical wooden breakwaters or
riprap sills. "They can be made to work
almost anywhere in the North Carolina
estuaries," Rogers says. "Existing
installations extend from Intracoastal
Waterway sites in Brunswick County to
brackish water in Currituck Sound to a 40-
mile fetch across Pamlico Sound in
Frisco."
In this method, a simple breakwater is
placed waterward of the mid-tide line to
protect marsh-grass plantings closer to land.
The low-profile breakwater dampens wave
energy and keeps marshes from eroding.
The dense root-mat formed by marsh
vegetation further decreases wave energy
and prevents erosion at the shore. Property
owners can help the process by carefully
transplanting and fertilizing the grasses.
LOOKING TO
THE FUTURE
Chuck Bissette, a contractor with
T.D. Eure Construction Co. in Beaufort,
says that property owners are willing to use
alternatives to bulkheads once they know
they are available, especially since the cost
is often lower. Still, bulkheads have a
certain aesthetic appeal to many
homeowners.
"You can establish a definitive
property line with a bulkhead, which is
hard to do with a riprap revetment,"
Bissette says. And if there is a beach
beyond the erosion-control
structure, homeowners can climb
over a bulkhead much easier than
over the large boulders of a riprap
revetment.
Developers acknowledge that
the proposed regulations have the
potential to be a huge issue.
"Bigger than the ban on coastal
hardening," Bissette says,
"because estuaries have more
parcels of land and more indi-
vidual property owners. If there
were a ban on bulkheading, the
wood-treating lobby, timber
council, vinyl and aluminum suppliers —
all of them would pitch a fit." But for now,
Bissette remains unconcerned about the
proposed changes. "I haven't seen the teeth
in it," he says.
"The new regulations are not a big
change from the rules already in effect,"
agrees Crowell of the Division of Coastal
Management. "They just spell the rules out.
We prefer sloping structures to vertical
bulkheads. We are not proposing a ban, only
appropriate use."
At any rate, the regulations are far from
finished. The Coastal Resources Commis-
sion will continue to solicit comments from
the public, and the drafted regulations will be
publicized at hearings in the 20 CAMA
counties. The commission may then revise
the rules in accordance with public response.
The regulations will pass through a rules
review committee before going to the North
Carolina General Assembly for acceptance
or rejection. The rules currently under debate
won't go into effect until August 2000 at the
earliest.
The public still has plenty of opportuni-
ties to get involved. Hearings will be posted
in local newspapers, and Coastal Resources
Commission meetings are open to the
public. "Rules get updated all the time, as
people learn about the environment and the
physical processes that affect it," Crowell
says. 'Twenty years of development along
the estuaries reveal some environmental
threats. We're trying to encourage appropri-
ate use of our resources." □
COASTWATCH 27
A HISTORIAN'S
COAST
Things
By David Cecelski
W
W w hen I began writing "A
Historian's Coast" three years ago, I never
expected to do so much research in a boat.
The tools of a historian's trade are usually
found in old books and archives, not in a
coastal swamp or tidal creek.
But early on, I learned that I had to get
out and see a place if I really wanted to
understand its past. Even our wildest
swamps have a natural history —
sometimes gradual, other times cataclys-
mic — that has been influenced by
settlement, exploitation and other human
practices. Most of this past has never been
written down and is often not apparent, but
you can find traces of it in the land itself if
you spend the time and look closely.
This is the last of my short essays for
Coastwatch. I've been writing "A
Historian's Coast" since January 1996 and,
regrettably, I can no longer fit the extra half
dozen deadlines a year into my life. In this,
my swan song in these pages, I'd like to
discuss some of the ways that the places
I've been in my canoe and kayak have
opened up our coastal history for me.
I probably would feature many of
these places in future essays if I could keep
writing for Coastwatch. They all helped
me to visualize the coastal landscape at
different points in our past and to see a
reflection of ourselves in the ways that
we've left our mark on the land.
Richard Cecebki examines a bald cypress on the Black River during a summer drought.
28 WINTER 1999
A HISTORIAN'S
COAST
On many of my forays onto coastal
waterways, I've been extremely fortunate
to have my brother Richard Cecelski as a
guide. Richard is the founder and director of
Carolina Ocean Studies, an environmental
education group that conducts wonderful
field trips for schoolchildren from Carolina
Beach and Beaufort. Richard is also one of
the most expert swamp guides in all of
North Carolina. He has an unusually good
feel for our coastal swamps and tidewater
creeks. It's been a privilege — as well as a
lot of fun — to learn from him.
Richard has a keen eye for the human
relics that one finds even in the most remote
swamps. A tar pit indicates a site where
naval stores had been produced, hence
where a longleaf pine forest once stood.
A tangle of narrow-gauge railroad track
reveals that the swamp forest had been
timbered, almost certainly during the period
from 1880 to 1920. During those years,
Northern timber companies
that had already depleted the
old-growth forests of New
England and the Great Lakes
swept through our coastal
forests like locusts. And
when we stumble upon a
sunken shad boat on a creek
off the Alligator River or a
hand-hewn bow net hidden
along the White Oak River,
we know we've discovered
traces of a springtime fishery
that was the largest in the
state in the late 19th century.
The canals that pass through coastal
swamps also reveal a great deal about the
past. Sometimes all you notice is a narrow,
all-too-straight line of visibility through a
cypress swamp, but you can bet it's an old
canal once used to float white oak timbers,
cypress shingles or cedar staves to a mill.
Along intertidal marshes, I've inadvertently
paddled into a labyrinth of intersecting,
narrow canals, a sign of rice cultivation in
the 18th or 19th centuries, when large gangs
of slaves cultivated the "golden grain"
along the Lower Cape Fear. I've also
followed other, larger canals in places like
Lake Phelps and Lake Mattamuskeet that
date to the late 1 8th and early 19th
centuries, when slaves dug canals to drain
swampland for agriculture and to raft goods
to market.
In my travels, I've been to even larger
canals, known as ships' canals, that bring to
life the golden age of canal building in
America between the American Revolution
\1n liai'l llaliiiiutki
and the Civil War. During that period,
many political leaders believed that ships'
canals held the greatest promise for
overcoming the navigational hazards of
North Carolina's shallow sounds and
dangerous, shifting inlets. Between 1794
and 1805, for example, slaves dug the 22-
mile-long Dismal Swamp Canal to serve as
a shipping route between the Albemarle
Sound and Chesapeake Bay and to skirt the
dangerous swash and bar at Ocracoke Inlet.
Antiquated by the opening of the
Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal in 1859,
the Dismal Swamp Canal has had lasting
consequences that have nothing to do with
shipping. The canal blocked the Great
Dismal Swamp's natural flow from west to
east, eventually drying up the vast wetlands
east of the canal and opening them for
agriculture. The canal also lowered water
levels throughout the moister parts of the
Great Dismal, drying out the highly
combustible upper layers of peat during
summer droughts. Even as early as 1 860,
unprecedentedly hot peat fires had burned
much of the old-growth forests of cypress,
juniper and gum in the Great Dismal.
Millponds also have a story to tell.
Quite often, Richard and I stumble upon
old millponds along remote blackwater
creeks. We frequently discover relics of the
mill's dam or foundation. Being on a
millpond, I find it easier to imagine what
much of our coastal landscape would have
looked like in the period from the
Revolutionary era well into the 20th
century, when millponds could be found in
„,„, every coastal community.
Local people dammed
creeks and harnessed the
water's flow to power
sawmills as well as
gristmills that provided
flour and cornmeal.
I spent one of the best
days of my life paddling in
Merchants Millpond,
formed late in the 18th
century when a group of
Gates County merchants
dammed Lassiter Swamp.
Today it's part of a state park that rents
canoes and campsites to the general public.
More often, though, I go to Morton's
Millpond near my family's homeplace. I
usually paddle north along the Harlowe
and Clubfoot Creek Canal and arrive at the
old millpond an hour or two before
twilight. An osprey will still be fishing at
that hour, and I'm likely to see wood
ducks, herons and maybe a gallinule or two
before they settle down for the night. The
place is bursting with life: dragonflies and
lightning bugs, fish hitting the water and
often an otter or muskrat.
Continued
COASTWATCH 29
A HISTORIAN'S
COAST
Millponds, like all wetlands, are an
example of what ecologists refer to as an
ecotone, a transition zone between two
diverse ecological communities. Ecotones
support life native to each of the two
communities (woods and river, for
instance), as well as plants and animals
endemic only to the ecotone. The height-
ened diversity and density of life in these
transition zones — known as
the "edge effect" — is what
makes millponds so remarkably
rich in life.
That's also true for beaver
ponds. Beavers are a keystone
species, with their dams
creating entire ecosystems
that provide habitat and food
for a wide range of birds,
fish, amphibians and other
animals. Their ponds were
once a ubiquitous part of the
coastal landscape, filling tens
of thousands of acres and
providing a remarkable
ecotone for all kinds of life.
Exterminated by the colonial
fur trade and farmers irate at
flooded fields by 1800, beavers have only
recently started making a comeback in
many parts of Eastern North Carolina. I
never saw them when I was a boy, but I'll
never forget the first beaver pond I saw,
off Devil's Gut between Williamston and
Jamesville. Now I find there's nothing
nicer than hearing a beaver's tail slap the
water when I'm spending a night in a
swamp.
Sometimes when I'm staying
overnight in a coastal swamp, I get a
glimpse of an even more distant past. It's
often not easy to find a dry campsite in a
swamp forest. A few times I've had to
paddle well into the night before finding a
place to rest my head. More than once, on
waking the next morning, I've discovered
clusters of arrowheads and shards of
pottery around my camp, letting me know
that I was hardly the first person who
found shelter on that knoll or hammock.
The coastal Algonquians — or their
ancestors — clearly used these same places
for fishing camps long before the 16th
century. A little hammock along Bennett's
Creek in Chowan County is one place that
comes right to mind.
For all my historical musings, my
special fondness for coastal swamps has
nothing to do with the past. Maybe it's in
Richard Cecelski, left, Amber and David Cecelski cruise the Black River.
my blood. Though I didn't spend much
time as a youngster in the Lakes Pocosin, I
did grow up on the edge of that swampy
wilderness, which is part of the Croatan
National Forest east of New Bern.
Certainly we all got bitten by enough
mosquitoes that we ought to have some of
that pocosin in our blood. Maybe it's
because I've had so many good times
poking around these blackwater rivers and
swamps with Richard. Then, too, I know I
find a solace and tranquillity in them that
often eludes me amidst the usual chaos of
my life.
Above all, though, I am haunted by
the fragility of these freshwater wetlands
— our most endangered and under-
appreciated coastal habitats. Everybody
admires the beauty of ocean beaches and
salt marshes, and I think most people
appreciate their importance for tourism and
the seafood industry. But far fewer people
have had the chance to fall in love with the
natural beauty and ecological uniqueness
of these coastal wetlands — the cypress
swamps, blackwater creeks, pocosins and
Carolina bays.
Once covering more than 3 million
acres, these coastal wetlands had been
reduced to less than 500,000 acres by
1973. Vast wetlands like the Green
Swamp, once one of the
largest swamplands in North
America have vanished.
We've lost thousands more
acres of wetlands in the last
couple of decades, mainly due
to timber companies. If these
unsung wildernesses are going
to be saved, it will have to
happen soon.
I know that Coastwatch's
readers will be among the first
to stand up for these coastal
wetlands. I'll miss writing for
you all, and I'll especially miss
the cards and letters (and
telephone calls to my mother),
letting me know what you
liked and didn't like about this
or that essay. I appreciated them all and
learned something from most of them.
I also enjoyed meeting many of you
as I traveled around the coast. I couldn't be
more grateful for the hospitality. You gave
me directions to hard-to-find spots. You
fed me suppers of fish stew and fritters.
Above all, I appreciate those of you who
quietly took me aside and shared an
ancestor's diary or the location of old ruins
that revealed new parts of our coastal past.
It's great writing for readers like you.
And if you haven't met me yet, I hope
we'll meet soon. I'm the one in the small
boat paddling into the swamp and, as
always, into the past. □
David Cecelski is a historian at the
University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill's
Southern Oral History Program and has
been a regular columnist for Coastwatch.
30 WINTER 1999
NATURALIST'S
NOTEBOOK
Beautiful Bountiful
Bay Scallops
W
w ¥ ith its gracefully flared
shells and tiny, sapphire-blue eyes, the
Atlantic bay scallop is a royal celebrity
among mollusks. It also distinguishes itself
from most bivalves by living at the bottom
of dense beds of sea grass instead of
burrowing into sand like a clam.
"Because the bay scallop lives in sea-
grass beds, it can only be found in two
Southeastern states — North Carolina and
Florida," says Trish Murphy, a biologist
with the N.C. Division of Marine Fisheries.
"Florida doesn't allow the commercial
harvest of bay scallops."
In North Carolina, the bay scallop or
"of blue eyes" can be found in Core and
Bogue sounds.
When fishing for bay scallops in
North Carolina, people can hand-rake,
scoop or drag a toothless scallop dredge
through sea-grass beds from January to
May. There is also a short season in
December.
Although there has been no reported
loss of sea grass in North Carolina,
researchers have reported a decline due to
pollution and disease in the Chesapeake
Bay and other bodies of water. In North
Carolina, there are two species of sea grass
— eelgrass and shoal grass.
"Sea grass is an important nursery in
North Carolina because it provides a
habitat for young fish, shrimp, clams and
molting blue crabs," says Murphy. 'To
protect sea grass, North Carolina has
closed off all sea-grass beds to mechanical
shellfish harvesting and some beds to
trawling since the 1970s."
In 1997, North Carolina had the
By Ann Green
Atlantic Bay Scallop
largest dockside landings of bay scallops
along the East Coast, harvesting 63,800
pounds worth about $214,000, according
to the National Marine Fisheries Services.
"Bay scallops are an important fishery for
Carteret County," adds Murphy.
The tasty bay scallop also has a long
history in the arts. Because of its graceful
shell, Greeks and Romans memorialized
the shell in one of their myths, the story of
the birth of Venus. The goddess of love
and beauty sprang full-grown from a
scallop shell. Medieval and Renaissance
artists and craftsmen also used the scallop
shell over and over in their work.
In North Carolina, the scallop's shells
can be found in and along the banks of
Core and Bogue sounds. The shell, which
is similar in shape and sculpturing to the
Atlantic calico scallop, has 15 to 22
smooth radial ribs. It comes in shades of
gray, brown and black, with the upper
valve having the most color.
Inside its cover, the scallop has large,
white adductor muscles that rapidly open
and close its valves, ejecting water around
the hinge. The adductor muscle is eaten by
humans. Around the edge of the mantle —
the layer of tissue that secretes the shell —
is a series of 100 blue eyes that detect
approaching predatory snails or starfish.
After eyeing its predators, the bivalve
snaps its shells and leaps away.
Like clams and other bivalve
mollusks, bay scallops feed by filtering
their food from the water. As they sit on
the bottom of sea-grass beds, tiny hairs in
their gills create a current that passes
through the gills. The scallops extract the
oxygen they need from the moving water
and also filter out the phytoplankton and
other minute plants. The current brings in
some sand, but by shutting their shells, the
scallops can expel the grit.
The bay scallop carries both male and
female organs. Spawning takes place at
about six months, when the scallop emits
eggs and sperm into the water. For the first
two weeks, the young are in a larval form,
floating from place to place before settling
in the grass beds. The bivalve's life
expectancy is about two years.
"For the bay scallops to continue to
thrive in North Carolina, fishers may need
to be careful not to disturb sea-grass beds
when fishing for scallops," says Murphy.
"Also, people must avoid polluting the
water." □
A helpful source of information for
this article was Wildlife in North Carolina
"Nature's Way," 1982.
COASTWATCH 31
SEA
SCIENCE
Estuarine Trawling:
Study Measures Impacts of Fishing Techniques
By Jeannie Far is N orris
<5
A trawler on the Neuse River
32 WINTER 1999
SEA
SCIENCE
T
JLhere is no shortage of opinions
in North Carolina about the environmental
impacts of inshore trawling.
Some say trawling is good for
productivity of inshore waters, "cultivating"
the bottom sediments and stimulating
growth of the tiny creatures that live there.
Others say trawling is bad for these waters,
unsettling the communities and disrupting
their biomass (weight and volume) and
ability to reproduce.
The actual effects of this traditional
fishing technique have not been studied in
North Carolina until now.
As the N.C. Marine Fisheries
Commission (MFC) begins to examine the
effects of inshore shrimp and crab trawling,
a research team is launching a two-year
study to measure the impact of trawling on
sand and mud estuarine bottoms. The work
is funded by the MFC through the Fishery
Resource Grant Program, administered by
North Carolina Sea Grant. When complete,
the research will help the MFC better
manage inshore trawling.
"Right now, the argument for or
against trawling can be made either way,"
says Sea Grant researcher Martin Posey, a
benthic ecologist at the University of North
Carolina at Wilmington. "That's why the
study is so timely. The bottom line is that
we just don't know. There are so many
areas where assumptions have to be made
that we cannot make any conclusions about
positive, negative or neutral effects."
At issue is the biological productivity
and composition of bottom organisms — or
benthos — in the estuaries. These areas are
prime habitat for soft-bottom organisms
that are important food for larger fish,
shrimp and crabs.
Part of the study, which begins in
February, evaluates the short-term impacts
of moderate crab trawling on a previously
untrawled area in the Pamlico River region.
The research boat, owned and piloted by
Henry Daniels of Belhaven, will pull an
open trawl and sample the benthos in three
areas that are not usually trawled. It will
also sample comparable untrawled zones
near each area.
Daniels' research team includes Posey
and researcher Larry Cahoon, a biological
oceanographer at UNC-Wilmington, who
will analyze the results. The team will pull
the open trawl long enough to have a
moderately heavy impact on the bottom.
They will work at three locations in both
February and July of 1999 and 2000,
sampling before and after their trawls. Their
research targets three types of organisms:
benthic microalgae, which are important
plant producers, especially for small bottom-
dwelling animals; meiofauna, which are
prey for shrimp and small bottom-feeding
fishes; and macrobenthos, such as worms,
amphipods and clams, which are food for
larger fishes, shrimp and crabs.
The second part of the study examines
the cumulative effects of trawling, again
pulling an open trawl. The researchers will
sample the benthos in two heavily trawled
areas of the Pamlico River and two that are
untrawled but not closed. The dates — in
February, May, July and November of 1999
and in February, May and June of 2000 —
will bracket the shrimp and crab trawling
seasons and offer good comparisons for
seasonal effects.
"The two methods have different
strengths and can complement each
another," Posey says.
The study focuses on crab trawling
because it has more impact on the benthos
than shrimp trawling, Daniels says. The
research team will avoid state-protected
grass beds and primary nursery areas, which
serve as crucial habitat for juveniles of many
marine species. It will instead focus on
nearby sand and mud bottoms, which lack
grasses. The mud bottoms are much quieter
than sand bottoms and usually are found in
deeper channels. Sand bottoms are more
comparable to grass beds and contain many
of the same organisms.
To date, research on the effects of
trawling has been inconclusive, the
researchers say. Some studies indicate that
trawling can impact the biomass and produc-
tivity of benthic organisms that support
fishery species. It may also change the
composition of benthic species, which can
be critical in the role of benthos as food for
shrimp, crabs and fish.
One point of view is that trawling is
beneficial, cultivating the bottom and
stimulating growth of food organisms. If so,
the researchers expect to see relatively high
abundances of the sampled food organisms
or at least rapid recovery after trawling.
On the other hand, if trawl impacts are
significantly negative, then appropriate
management strategies — managing catch,
trawling areas or seasons — would be worth
investigating for specific fisheries, the
researchers say. The study results will at
least provide some direction on this issue.
Another possibility is that trawling has
no significant impact either way.
Although the impacts of trawling have
been long discussed, few studies have
addressed the well-being of benthic organisms.
For example, a trawl impact study in
South Carolina waters focused on bycatch
issues, not on the effects of trawling on the
food chain organisms that support fisheries.
Some critics have charged that trawling not
only damages the benthos, it also catches
untargeted species. A study of the Carteret
County shrimp fishery also addressed
bycatch issues.
Studies in other regions are beginning
to look at such effects. Researchers found
impacts of scallop dredging on soft-bottom
communities in Maine coastal waters, and
another team found that sheltered, untrawled
muddy bottoms in a Scottish sea loch were
susceptible to damage by bottom dragging.
However, it is not clear how relevant these
studies would be to North Carolina's waters.
The MFC has asked the Division of
Marine Fisheries to prepare reports on the
known impacts of trawling inshore waters,
says Nancy Fish, division spokesperson.
From these, the commission will identify
the research needed to fill in the gaps in
data. □
COASTWATCH 33
From the Editor
Recognizing Excellence
No
"iorth Carolina Sea Grant has had a
bountiful year. Our overall program received an J
excellent rating from a national review panel. And
our staff and Coastwatch contributors have taken :
honors for academic excellence and skillful prose
— even boatbuilding.
But there was one day in May that brought a
special excitement to our Raleigh headquarters.
Our director, Ron Hodson, made his first trip to
the office since sustaining critical injuries in a
January plane crash in Florida.
Staff members eagerly welcomed Ron as he
made his way to his desk. We had been in regular
contact with him — quick questions by phone or
e-mail, longer meetings at his home. But this was
his first return to Sea Grant, where he has served
for two decades.
We were happy to have him back — and he looks forward to
returning on a full-time basis. In the meantime, he offers many thanks
to the friends, colleagues and extended Sea Grant family who
continue to offer support through his recovery.
Ron is obviously proud of the "excellent" rating we received
from the performance assessment team assigned by the National Sea
Grant College Program. The panel spent a week in North Carolina,
visiting extension projects along the coast and meeting with university
researchers and Sea Grant staff. Read more about the review in
Coastal Tidings.
Sea Grant communicator Renee Wolcott Shannon took
individual honors as the top master's student in NC State University's
College of Humanities and Social Studies. Renee, who earned a
master's degree in English in May, received the award from Phi
Kappa Phi, a national honor society.
Writer T. Edward Nickens of Raleigh won awards from the
Outdoor Writers Association of America for a pair of articles from his
Coastwatch series.
"The Hook," a story on Cape Lookout that appeared in our High
Season 1998 issue, took second place in the natural history category.
"The Point" — a contemporary account of the rich heritage of
Cape Hatteras surf fishing that appeared in our
Autumn 1998 issue — took second place in the
saltwater fishing category.
Julie Ann Powers of Beaufort took Best in
Show honors at the Wooden Boat Show sponsored
by the North Carolina Maritime Museum. Julie's
account of the joy and frustration of building her
first boat appeared in our Winter 1999 issue. Julie
recently joined the Sea Grant staff in a part-time
capacity to handle communications for the state
Fishery Resource Grant program, which is
administered by Sea Grant.
In closing, I thank readers who responded to
my request for images of the sea and shoreline
that inspire a child-like sense of wonder. Two
responses remind me that we should not take our
coast for granted.
Deb Greene of Galesburg, 111., has only seen the ocean once —
and she admits she felt a "sensory overload" — but the images are
still sharp:
". . .how the waves kept coming, kept coming, and how the
sound of the surf never ended. The brightness of the kites against the
gray sky. The weathered faces of the old men fishing in the surf.
Picking up a seashell and wondering what are you — where did you
come from and how far have you traveled and what is your story?"
Deb returns this year with her family. She's eager to watch the
faces of her sons and 1 0-month-old grandson as they take their first
steps in the surf.
Virginia D. Wiseman of Danville, Va, thanks me for reminding
readers about the works of Rachel Carson. "Her writings about Bird
Shoal and the Florida Keys were great. We found all the sea life just
as she described it," writes Virginia who started a scientific collec-
tion of seashells in the 1950s.
In the decades since, growth and progress have changed much
of the coast and the habitats for sea creatures. "The only place I now
find some sea life is at the east end of Ocean Isle," she adds.
Thanks, Deb and Virginia. Keep the e-mails and letters
coming. □
Katie Mosher, Managing Editor
Contributors
Writers:
Ann Green D Katie Mosher 0 T. Edward Nickens D Julie Ann Powers D Renee Wolcott Shannon D Cynthia Henderson Vega
Photographers:
Dave Brenner D Michael Halminski D Joanne Harcke D Herman Lankford D Spencer M. Rogers D J. Foster Scott
Scott D. Taylor n Allison von Hagn D Roger W. Winstead
Features
Coastal Tidings
Cape Fear River of Water, River of Time
Join T. Edward Nickens as he explores the currents of history
flowing through the lower Cape Fear River. Once a bustling
shipping artery that coursed through the world's most productive
region for tar, pitch and turpentine, the Cape Fear is now a quiet
waterway that invites reflection on past days 6
Pettigrew State Park: Home to Ancient Lake, Trees, Canoes
Tour mystic swamps, sycamore groves and the crystal-clear
waters of 16,600-acre Lake Phelps. Even prehistoric dugout
canoes can be found tucked away in Pettigrew State Park,
one of North Carolina's best-kept secrets 14
Discover Unique Resources at Coastal State Parks
Ann Green lists five of the state's 15 coastal-plain state parks,
which showcase unique natural resources. Visit Carolina Beach
for the carnivorous Venus flytrap, Fort Macon for a glimpse of
Civil War history 19
Managing Coastal Development
Balancing Environmental and Economic Needs
North Carolina's Coastal Area Management Act (CAMA) has
been shaping development in our coastal counties for the past
25 years. Katie Mosher celebrates the law's silver anniversary
with a look at its controversial history 20
The Catch: Happy Sails to You:
Stay Safe on the Water this Summer
Summer isn't prime fishing season, but tourists and fishers alike
take to the water in droves. Renee Wolcott Shannon provides a
boating-safety primer 26
Book Market: Kids at the Beach
Children love the beach, and their curiosity makes them natural
scientists — and poets. Feed their hunger for seaside experiences
with books full of ocean critters and rhymes for the seashore. .. 29
Sea Science: Blue Crab:
Study Reveals New Secrets
Get the latest on North Carolina's most valuable fishery. David
Eggleston finds new habitat for juvenile blue crabs and questions
the fishery's status 32
COASTWATCH 1
Coastwatch
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 12-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http:llwww2.ncsii.edulsea_grantlseagrant.html.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch, North Carolina Sea Grant,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
North Carolina Sea Grant
Program Rates "Excellent"
Sea
North Carolina
Sea Grant is at the top
of its class.
The North
Carolina research and
outreach programs
are leaders in the
National Sea Grant
network, according to
a national review panel. The panel gave
North Carolina Sea Grant an overall
rating of "excellent" during a recent
review.
"NCSG has led the nation in several
areas, such as creation of a hybrid striped
bass aquaculture industry, development
of surimi into an industry worth hundreds
of millions of dollars annually and
identification of Pfiesteria piscicida and
its potential harm to humans," the report
states.
"The North Carolina Sea Grant
Program has provided one of the best
mechanisms for building cooperation
among various groups and has been
especially effective in extension and
communications programs with end
users," the report continues.
The program assessment review
team included a university president, a
state Sea Grant director, representatives
of the National Sea Grant Office and the
National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration, and experts in fisheries
and coastal engineering.
North Carolina
North Carolina
Sea Grant was cited
for producing
significant results
in areas including
coastal studies,
ocean policy and
coastal public trust,
water quality,
fisheries, aquaculture, seafood technol-
ogy, and training future leaders through
a variety of education programs.
"We have always thought that we
have done well in those areas. This
report proves that we do," says North
Carolina Sea Grant Director Ron
Hodson.
During the December 1998
review, Sea Grant staff members took
the panel on a tour of research and
outreach projects along the coast. The
team then came to Raleigh for a series
of presentations by Sea Grant research-
ers and staff.
The North Carolina program was
cited for its proactive approach to
serving the public. In addition to a wide
variety of communications products,
the program supports public contact
with extension staff as well as direct
contact with primary researchers.
"This has been extremely powerful
in transmitting technology to industry,"
the team reports.
— KM.
Front cover photo of
an abandoned tugboat
and table of contents photo of
a stroll along the beach
by Scott D. Taylor.
Printed on recycled paper. ®
In the Next Issue of Coastwatch
their powerful waves, the Outer Banks have become one of the most
popular places to surf on the East Coast Ann Green examines the coast's surfing
culture and history. She also looks at surfers' impact on the coastal conservation
movement Renee Wolcott Shannon's experience with coastal bird-watching will
whet naturalists' appetites for the third annual Wings over Water festival.
2 HIGH SEASON 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Scientists Ponder Farm-raised Flounder
Founder aquaculture efforts could
build upon the success of farm-raised
hybrid striped bass, according to a group
of North Carolina scientists.
Many lessons learned through North
Carolina Sea Grant aquaculture research -
from nutrition and disease prevention to
pond technology — can be transferred to
flounder studies, says North Carolina Sea
Grant Director Ron Hodson. He directed
much of the hybrid striped bass research
that spawned a multi-million dollar
industry in the state.
The flounder
efforts are gaining
steam in the state's
research community.
A panel of scientists,
state regulators and
current fish farmers
recendy released the
report "flounder
Aquaculture and
Stock Enhancement
in North Carolina:
Issues, Opportunities
and Recommenda-
tions." The recom-
mendations include a state-funded
hatchery and establishment of a Marine
Finfish Aquaculture Committee.
The report is the result of a series of
flounder workshops that drew toxicolo-
gists, engineers, zoologists and water-
quality experts. The meetings were funded
by a grant from the North Carolina Board
of Science and Technology.
The workshops also had the support
of North Carolina Sea Grant, the University
of North Carolina at Chapel Hill's Program
in Molecular Biology and Biotechnology,
the N.C Department of Agriculture and
Consumer Services, the National Oceanic
and Atmospheric Administration's Coastal
Services Center and the NC State University
College of Agriculture and Ufe Sciences.
The nation now has one commercial
hatchery for summer flounder and a
handful of grow-out operations, which take
the young fish, known as fingerlings, to
market size. There are no commercial
hatcheries for southern flounder, which is
the focus of Sea Grant-funded research by
Harry V. Daniels and Craig V. Sullivan of
NC State University.
Southern flounder, which can tolerate
lower salinity and higher temperatures, are
well-suited for North Carolina operations,
Daniels says.
"We have been successful in develop-
ing fingerlings," he adds. "We now are
moving our focus more into grow-out."
This year Daniels anticipates multiple
spawning cycles for
the flounder being
bred at the Tidewater
Research Station in
Plymouth.
The workshops'
recommendations
stress the need for a
new hatchery. "The
state cannot make
significant progress in
developing flounder
1 aquaculture or
I answering questions
I regarding stock
enhancement without
the capacity to produce a large supply of
healthy flounder fingerlings," the report
states.
Other recommendations from the
workshop participants include a compre-
hensive stock assessment of flounder and
other marine finfish being considered for
aquaculture, as well as incentives and joint
research facilities or consortiums to support
aquaculture research and development.
The scientists also suggest an
integrated permitting process for commer-
cial marine finfish aquaculture and a focus
on land-based systems — tanks and ponds
— to minimize environmental impart.
Finally, the panel recommends a cost-
benefit analysis of efforts to enhance wild
flounder stocks.
To receive a free copy of the report,
call North Carolina Sea Grant at 91 9/51 5-
2454 ore-mail harriss@unity.ncsu.edu. Fax
requests can be sent to 919/51 5-7095. Ask
for publication UNC-SG- 99-02. — KM
Want to help clean up
North Carolina's waterways?
Join the 1999 First
Citizens Bank Big Sweep
Sept. 18 from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.
Volunteers from across
the state will clean the shores
of rivers, lakes and the ocean.
Founded as a coastal
cleanup called Beach Sweep
by North Carolina Sea Grant
marine education specialist
Lundie Spence in 1987, the
program was expanded inland
and renamed Big Sweep in
1989. When all 100 North
Carolina counties committed
to Big Sweep in 1995, it
became the nation's largest
statewide waterways cleanup.
Last year, volunteers
retrieved more than 268 tons
of trash along North
Carolina's waterways.
With littering on the rise,
more volunteers are needed,
including litter collectors,
boaters and fishers. To
volunteer in your county,
call the Big Sweep hotline at
800/27-SWEEP. —AG.
COASTWATCH 3
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Bald Head
Beauty
magine white-tailed deer
wandering through a maritime
forest as fan-shaped cabbage
palmetto trees sway in an ocean
breeze.
These animals and trees are
found at the Bald Head Woods
Coastal Reserve on Bald Head
Island, one of eight sites in the
North Carolina Coastal Reserve.
Officials from the N.C. Depart-
ment of Environment and Natural
Resources and the Division of
Coastal Management (DCM),
Bald Head Island Ltd. and the
Village of Bald Head recently
dedicated the 1 73-acre reserve.
"When people visit the Bald
Head Woods Reserve, they get to
see a maritime forest that is
different from others in North
Carolina," says John Taggart,
coastal reserve coordinator for
DCM. Bald Head Reserve is the
only place in the state where you
can find cabbage palmetto trees.
DCM acquired the Bald
Head site in 1 992 with grants
from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife
Service and the Natural Heritage
Trust Fund. Bald Head Island Ltd.
donated a portion of the forest
valued at $1 million.
The coastal reserve program
is part of the state's Coastal Area
Management Act (CAMA). Read
about the 25th anniversary of
CAMA on page 20. —AG.
4 HIGH SEASON 1999
DNA Probe Advances
Pfiesteria Research
the weather heats up this
summer, North Carolina could see more
fish kills and algal blooms. But North
Carolina Sea Grant scientists are unlock-
ing the secrets of nitrogen pollution and
toxic dinoflagellates, and their findings
could help prevent these annual nuisances.
In a project that started with seed
money from North Carolina Sea Grant,
researchers Parke Rublee and JoAnn
Burkholder have created DNA probes that
can detect Pfiesteria piscicida in water
samples. Isolated strands of DNA peculiar
to Pfiesteria find their genetic mates in the
samples, and then DNA amplification or
fluorescent dye markers make the
presence of the fish killer obvious. So far,
the probes have been used to determine
the geographic distribution of Pfiesteria
and to identify two other dinoflagellates,
one of which is a second species of
Pfiesteria.
The newly discovered species shares
many of Pfiesteria piscicida' 's hallmarks,
including a strong attraction to fish, the
ability to manufacture toxins, a complex
life cycle with an amoebic stage and an
animal-like pattern of behavior.
Burkholder' s recent research also
finds that Pfiesteria piscicida prefers a
particular larval stage of clams and oysters.
Within seconds, the toxic dinoflagellate
forces its way between the valves of the
larval shellfish and eats the entire organ-
ism, except for the adductor muscle.
Further research might explain why
Pfiesteria prefers this larval stage and
examine its sublethal and chronic effects
on finfish and shellfish populations.
— R.W.S.
Ms
Catch-and-Release Fishery Emphasized
concern grows over dwindling
fish stocks, more recreational fishers
are turning loose their fish after
snapping a photo or tagging their
catch. "We really want to
emphasize catch and release,"
saysjim Bahen, recreational
fishing agent for North
Carolina Sea Grant. "It's
easy to catch more than you
need."
This year, Bahen is co-chair
of the steering committee for the
first National Symposium on
Catch and Release in Marine
Recreational Fisheries Dec. 5-9
in Virginia Beach, Va. The
symposium will address hook-
release mortality, educational
and fisheries management
issues, fishing tournament
concerns, angler behavior and
recreational fishing ethics.
North Carolina fishers
may be particularly interested in new
research findings on the use of circle hooks
in tuna, billfish, sharks, striped bass and
summer flounder. Circle hooks have
been successfully used in the catch
and release of giant tuna along the
Outer Banks in recent years.
Charter captains, fishing
tournament organizers and
angling leaders are
encouraged to attend.
Because the symposium will
address fish-discard mortality
with the use of rod and reel
gear, representatives of the
commercial hook-and-line
fisheries may also be
interested.
For more information,
contactjim Bahen at North
Carolina Sea Grant, 91 0/
256-2083, orjon Lucy, Virginia
Institute of Marine Science (VIMS),
P.O. Box 1346, Gloucester Pt.,
VA 23062 (804/684-7166; e-
mail: lucy@vims.edu) or visit the
VIMS Web site at www.vims.edu.
— R.W.S.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Birders Flock to Wings Over Water
rrowl Pea Island
for a rare glimpse of a
Western Tanager.
Canoe the blackwater
swamps of the Alligator
River National Wildlife
Refuge.
Perhaps climbing
Jockey's Ridge or
howling at red wolves is more to your liking.
If you're a naturalist, you're sure to find
something to suit you at the third annual
Wngs Over Water festival. This "Celebra-
tion ofWIdlife & Wildlands in Eastern
N.C." is coming up Nov. 5-7. Register now
for a wealth of nature-based opportunities.
In addition to bird-watching, hiking
and paddling events, Wings Over Water will
host workshops on bird banding and plant
identification, seminars
on local wildlife, and
an outdoor festival
featuring vendors, artists
and activities for kids.
"This is a family
thing," saysjack
Thigpen, North Carolina
Sea Grant's coastal
recreation and tourism specialist. There
are lots of activities for beginning birders
and naturalists, as well as for long-time
bird-watchers.
For more information or a registration
form, contact the Wngs Over Water staff
at P.O. Box 1 808, Manteo, NC 27954, or
e-mail wow@outer-banks.com. Check the
Web at www.northeast-nc.com/wings.
— R.W.S.
Crab Compost Fills Garden, Not Landfill
Sweet and delicate, blue crab meat is
delectable to diners and profitable for North
Carolina seafood processors.
But edible morsels account for only 20
percent of a live crab's weight. Patty Buck of
Mattamuskeet Seafood Inc., like other pro-
cessors, faced high landfill bills for disposal
of leftover shells.
Buck thought composting the shells
into mulch was better, economically and
environmentally. A state Fishery Resource
Grant helped prove her right.
With $7,000 granted in 1994, Buck
fine-tuned a demonstration project she had
developed with Hyde County soil and water
conservation agents. Her system mixes
shells, other crab waste, cooking water and
lumberyard wood scraps.
Composting has saved the Swan Quar-
ter processor at least $10,000 annually in
landfill fees, plus has environmental benefits.
"It is a much more environmentally
friendly way to dispose of my waste," Buck
says.
Composting has become standard at
Mattamuskeet Seafood. "We still use it every
day when we are operating," Buck says.
"We have never had a problem with it."
The 400 gallons of cooking water used
daily had been another disposal headache.
The water, about 40 percent organic matter,
now is dripped onto compost to foster micro-
organisms and speed the composting pro-
cess. Previously, Buck's conventional septic
field needed frequent replacement.
Buck nurtures her rose garden and com
and soybean crops with the mulch, and
shares it with friends. Trial use by
Weyerhaeuser Co. tree farms also proved
satisfactory. Researchers have found no
problems from runoff and consider the
composting concept promising for other pro-
cessors.
Buck credits the Fishery Resource
Grant for allowing her to refine her methods.
Technical support came from North Carolina
Sea Grant; Robert Rubin, an NC State Uni-
versity biological and agricultural engineer-
ing professor; Michael Smith of Smith Septic
Systems; and Ted Lyon of the N.C. Division
of Waste Management.
A similar project is expected soon in
Pasquotank County.
For more information on the Fishery
Resource Grant Program, administered by
North Carolina Sea Grant, call Bob Hines,
Sea Grant fisheries agent, at 252/2474007.
—J.A.P.
Students Debate
Coastal Issues
North Carolina
students look toward the 21st
century, they face many
decisions about the coastal
environment — from the quality
of the state's water system to
the future of beach structures
threatened by inlet migration.
Using desktop
videoconferencing, middle
school students and teachers
from Cabarrus County, Rocky
Mount, Raleigh and
Hillsborough joined Shaw
University education students in
debating these issues during
spring semester.
Led by North Carolina Sea
Grant marine education
specialist Lundie Spence, the
electronic town meeting on
"Environmentally Endangered
Sites" was part of Teachers
Connect, a micro-Web site of
the North Carolina Department
of Public Instruction.
'This was a very worth-
while program," says Spence.
"All of us had fun expressing
opinions and thoughts about
North Carolina's public trust
rights regarding the beach and
the moving of the Cape
Hatteras lighthouse."
To find out more about
Teachers Connect, e-mail
tconnect@hotmail.com or visit the
Web site: www.ofps.dpi.state.nc.
us/OFPS/tc/ forums.htm.
—AC.
COASTWATCH
E
River of Water,
by T. Edward Nickens
ON ANY OTHER DAY this half
buried log would go unnoticed.
For several hours Jim Bahen and I
have been threading a small johnboat
down a Vernal chasm, the forest-lined
lower Cape Fear River, searching for signs
of the river's rich heritage as a centuries-
old waterway for exploration, commerce
and warfare. Bahen, a North Carolina Sea
Grant fisheries agent, knows the Cape Fear
coastal region with a waterman's zeal, but
has rarely ventured above Wilmington; I
am simply bewitched with the history of
the river's final run to the sea.
At each sinuous river bend we scan
high bluff and swampy lowland alike,
hoping to spy the rotting remains of an old
wharf, perhaps, or the vestige of an ancient
steamboat landing long since swallowed
by bramble and shrub. We beach the skiff
on one particular sandbar to investigate a
vertical post that looks positively piling-
like, but after a few minutes of study we
chalk it up to the work of a beaver.
Another false lead in a morning of false
leads. Bahen is already back in the boat
when the half-buried chunk of wood
catches my eye, under a tangle of willows
near the base of the river bluff.
I bend down for a closer look. The log
is only 3 feet long, but shaped just so, with
a blunt, spherical end that looks vaguely
familiar. I turn it over, the wood spongy in
my fingers. There's a surprise, I think: The
log is hollow, split lengthwise, with
wooden walls 2 inches thick. I wonder
what sort of natural process could have
Phow by Scott D.Taylor
River of Time
formed such symmetry when I suddenly
suck in my breath. The log has been
worked by human hands.
A dugout canoe, or part of it The bow
or stem of some ancient vessel.
I rub my hand through the hollowed
cavity — what a find! — and imagination
takes flight. A dugout canoe discovered
beneath Lake Phelps has been radiocarbon-
dated to be 4,400 years old. Could this be
as old? Or could it date to the earliest days
of European exploration, when French,
Spanish and English commanders skittered
up the Cape Fear, agog at garden-like
forests and brilliantly hued parakeets? At
the earliest, I figure, it must date from the
18th or 19th centuries, when Native
Americans and colonists alike paddled
dugout canoes so large they were fitted
with masts and oars, and could hold 50
barrels of plantation wares.
It's been a few hours since we
launched our skiff for a day of poking and
plodding down the lower Cape Fear, from
downstream of Elizabethtown to the
Wilmington waterfront. Our plan is simple
enough: Armed with daylight and a full
tank of gas, we'll let whim serve as a
rudder, steering us from riverbank to
riverbank. We'll nose up tributaries and
around islands, musing about the untold
numbers of river travelers — in fishing
skiffs, steamboats and wooden barges —
who have plied these waters in the past
Few waters speak of such history as
the lower Cape Fear. She is the taproot of
Continued
COASTWATCH 7
Top:
A kayaker paddles the
tranquil waters of a Cape
Fear tributary. Commer-
cial traffic on f/ie river
has almost ceased, and
it's a haven for those
seeking solitude and a
close brush with nature.
Middle:
Robin Hall, lockmaster at
the Cape Fear Lock &
Dam No. 1, points out
American shad ready to
move upstream to their
breeding grounds.
Bottom:
Solemn cypress trees line
the riverbanks, looking
just as they must have
hundreds of years ago,
when sailors first braved
the Cape Fear waters.
Photos by Scull D. Taylor
the coastal plain, reaching deep into the
Carolina Piedmont — past the mouths of
the Northeast Cape Fear and Black Rivers,
and on towards Elizabethtown,
Fayetteville, Lillington. On maps, the Cape
Fear begins where the waters of the Haw
and Deep Rivers commingle, southeast of
tiny Moncure. But in spirit, the river
pushes far deeper into the state, draining
land as distant as Rockingham County, up
on the Virginia line.
We launch our exploration of the
little-traveled lower river at King's Bluff,
where Lock & Dam No. 1 marks a spot
39 river-miles above the Wilmington
waterfront. Opened in 1915, this is the
first of three low dams built between
Fayetteville and Wilmington, with
corresponding locks to raise and lower
vessels between the upper and lower pools.
Until the railroads outran the steamers,
pine-burning paddlewheelers brought the
Cape Fear to life. Scores of landings lined
each bank, from Wilmington to Cross
Creek, ancestor of Fayetteville.
Now commercial traffic has all but
ceased. Lockmaster Robin Hall says that
he hasn't locked a barge through Lock &
Dam No. 1 in four years, although a new
project to move cypress logs from
Charleston, S.C., to Elizabethtown is
expected this summer.
The big excitement at King's Bluff
this morning isn't commercial traffic, but
fish. As chance would have it, we've
arrived during the peak of the American
shad migrations up the Cape Fear River,
and untold thousands of fish are surging
from the ocean upstream to breed. Stymied
by the dam, the fish stack up in the tailrace,
attracting equally large numbers of fishers.
To help the fish over the dam, Hall
oversees a program to "lock through" as
many anadromous fish as possible. Three
times a day, from the end of February
through June, the 200-foot-long lock is
"turned around," lifting fish from the lower
pool to the upper.
The program has the approval of the
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which
manages the Cape Fear locks, and has been
extended to all three dam sites.
With funding from the state's Fishery
Resource Grant program, which is
administered by North Carolina Sea Grant,
Hall has recently finished a three-year study
to fine-tune locking methods for the benefit
of fish. Mary Moser, a fish biologist from
the University of North Carolina at
Wilmington, collaborated on the project.
First, shad were tagged with radio
transmitters, and their movements tracked
as they moved upstream. Once they entered
the lock chamber, two radio receiving
stations monitored their movements. By
changing how the gate doors are arranged to
create a gigantic eddy inside the lock, more
fish are encouraged to stay in the chamber,
and get the lift up and over the dam.
Shad, Bahen figures, as we back our
boat into the water, "are the poor man's
salmon. And there are still people who live
for the arrival of these fish. When the
dogwood blooms and the com gets to be
about 2 inches long, they know it's shad
time." The instinctive push against flowing
water pulls the fish upstream, out of the
ocean and into the breeding grounds up
the Cape Fear.
OUR DESTINY, HOWEVER, UES
DOWNSTREAM. From King's Bluff
we nose through bottomland hardwoods,
scattering double-crested cormorants that
launch from the water with ungainly flight.
Tatters of gill nets drape streamside trees,
like spiderwebs in dew. And everywhere
are "bush hooks," as Bahen calls them. I
know them by another name: trot lines, long
lengths of cord bearing multiple fish hooks,
baited with chicken livers and bloodworms,
then left overnight.
Each bend in the river brings new
discovery: little blue herons like statues of
lapis, forgotten shad camps rotting near the
river's edge, mossy clay bluffs soaring 30
feet above the skiff. Near one old bluff,
somewhere near Pridgen's Landing, I ferret
through a tangled undergrowth of greenbrier
and cane, in hopes of finding some remnant
of a wharf or pier. There is nothing but the
sighing of wind in the trees and the pocks of
deer tracks in the sand.
It's odd that this river stretch remains
such untrammeled country, centuries after
European discovery. In 1524, Florentine
explorer Giovanni de Verrazzano made
landfall at Cape Fear, recording that "The
shoare is all covered with small sand ... and
beyond this we saw ... many faire fields
and plains, full of mightie great woods ...
Palme trees. Bay trees and high Cypress
trees ... and the land is full of beastes, as
Stags, Deere, and Hares."
Two years later Lucas Vasquez de
Ayllon appeared under the Spanish flag,
but hopes for planting a colony along the
Cape Fear were dashed along with his
vessel, the first European victim of the
river's dreaded Frying Pan Shoals.
The explorer I find most intriguing
came nearly a century later. On the
morning of Oct. 4, 1662, William Hilton
and his ship Adventure threaded the Cape
Fear shoals and entered the mouth of the
river. Hilton sailed under the rubric of the
"Adventurers about Cape Fayre," a group
of Massachusetts Bay colonists who hoped
to move south. Hilton and his crew
explored the river mouth region for three
weeks before returning northward.
Nearly a year later, Hilton was back.
This time he sailed from Barbados, in the
same ship, but with a commission from
land-starved islanders to explore the Cape
Fear's possibilities as a colony site. Hilton
cleared the rivermouth on Oct. 16, 1663,
and rambled the river and its tributaries for
nearly eight weeks. Traveling past the
present-day Wilmington waterfront, Hilton
explored the Brunswick River and Smith's
Creek. He made long forays up the Cape
Fear's northeast branch, and described the
region in a fine report.
The natives were friendly; in fact,
they acted as guides, and helped provision
the sailors with a "great store" of fresh
mullet, shad, bass and "several other sorts
of very good, well-tasted fish." On the
banks of the Northeast Cape Fear, Hilton
reported finding "as good tracts of land,
dry, well wooded, pleasant and delightful
as we have seen any where in the world."
In places, Hilton wrote, the woods
were "thin of Timber, except here and
there a very great Oak, and full of Grasse,
commonly as high as a man's middle, and
in many places to his shoulders where we
saw many Deer and Turkies; also one Deer
with very large horns, and great in body,
therefore called it Stag-Park: it being a very
pleasant and delightful place, we travelled
in it several miles, but saw no end thereof."
These savannahs, long since disappeared
from the region, would make fine pasture.
The company reported "Partridges
great store, Cranes abundance, Conies
(rabbits), which we saw in several places;
we heard several Wolves howling in the
woods, and saw where they had torn a
Deer to pieces." Hilton's report is a roll call
of long- vanished animals, from gray
wolves to the jewel-like Carolina para-
keets, or "Parrakeeto's," that thronged the
Cape Fear woods in "great flocks."
Alligators the length of a horse sulked in
rivers and lakes near the sea their scaly
backs "impenitrible, refusing a Musquet
Bullet to pierce it."
I can't help but wonder what Hilton
would think of a metal johnboat, thrum-
ming downstream with the unmistakable
growl of an outboard motor. Three
centuries have brought much change to the
lower Cape Fear. Carolina parakeets have
long since disappeared from North
Carolina; gray wolves were driven from
the coastal plain and the piedmont into the
dark recesses of the mountains, where a
few hung on into the early 20th century.
But in places the green palisades that line
the river still hint at the forests that met and
so impressed, the men of the Adventure.
AT TIMES, I CAN EASILY
IMAGINE the land that greeted Hilton.
Our tiny craft passes along river banks
where cypress knees line the shore like
nature's bulkheads. Northern parula
warblers buzz from the treetops. We cmise
in the constant company of turkey vultures
and ospreys, riding unseen currents above
the trees. At the Thoroughfare, a tree-
choked channel that connects the Cape
Fear to the Black River, an anhinga perches
in a snag, its glossy black wings spread out
in the sun.
Continued
COASTWATCH 9
Top: Until early this century, barrels of tar were a common sight on wharves in the
lower Cape Fear region, which led the world in the production of naval stores.
Middle: The great pine barrens between Fayetteville and Wilmington yielded tar,
pitch and turpentine, mainstays of maritime maintenance and coastal life.
Bottom: The state's largest city for 70 years, Wilmington was a hub of trans-oceanic
shipping, sending naval stores and lumber as far away as England.
Plititoi coiiriesy rif tlie Cape Fiw Musetiiii
I
The odd bird, almost ghoulish in
aspect, is a fitting welcome to the 2,757-
acre Roan Island, an isolated, wild tract of
swamp with just a fringe of high ground on
its northwestern margin. The woods are an
alternating tapestry: soaring cypress
swamp choked with vine, dark and
brooding, then stands of straight-barked
gum, like the hair on a mad dog's back. On
the high ground yellow wildflowers blaze.
We turn upstream into the Black River,
where sunlight streams onto marsh grasses
a mile away, lighting them like distant
groundfire.
Those marshes are a testament to one
of the early industries of the lower Cape
Fear: rice. Along the Roan Island stretch of
river, gaps in the interior forest canopy hint
at rice fields of yore; further downstream,
marshes cover huge swaths of old rice
fields, where the 1 8th-century planter
Robert Schaw had nearly 900 acres of land
diked for rice cultivation. But rice culture
in the Cape Fear never rivaled that of the
South Carolina low country. Instead, it was
a natural byproduct of the lower Cape Fear,
not a cultivated one, that defined the region
for the first few hundred years of European
settlement.
From 1720 until the Civil War, the
lower Cape Fear region led the world in the
production of turpentine, tar and pitch,
collectively known as naval stores. North
Carolina's interior coastal plain was
swathed in part of the nation's finest pine
forest.
One early traveler described the pine
savannahs between Fayetteville and
Wilmington with breathless ardor: "These
pines ... grow on an even plain, clear of
underwood, so that you may see a cow a
mile distant. This, with the symmetry of
the trees, and a kind of broom-grass,
which was just peeping out, resembling a
smooth shorn meadow, gave a beautiful
appearance. If you can imagine a number
of lofty, straight columns, with a rich green
drapery thrown on each, standing on a
green velvet carpet, you may form some
idea of these barrens. Not a sprig, shrub or
brier interrupts the view, as far as the eye
can see."
Those trees produced a piney resin
called turpentine (today's turpentine is actu-
ally spirits of turpentine, a distilled product)
and the various products of the sap were a
colonial mainstay. In their various forms,
naval stores were used as a wig adhesive,
insect powder, violin bow dressing, and
medicine for various internal and external
ailments. The resin was used in the manu-
facture of tallow candles, wood preservative
and sheep dip. You could use it to take the
hair off a hog or the pinfeathers off poultry.
And naval stores were a mainstay of
maritime maintenance. Enormous quantities
of tar were used to protect ships* rigging,
while pitch made a fine caulking for
watertight wooden ship hulls. In a single
year, the port of Brunswick, just below
Wilmington, shipped 59.006 barrels of naval
stores to England.
For two centuries, then, the Cape Fear
River clamored with commercial vessels. In
the early years of the 1 8th century,
"periaugers" were fashioned from a dugout
canoe split lengthwise and widened with
boards. As the region's naval stores output
increased, a large '"flat boat" was designed.
Robert Schaw's sister. Janet, offers a
wonderful accounting of her travels in the
Cape Fear region in 1775 — Journal of a
Lady of Quality is its title — and described
these barges as large enough to cany 200
barrels of wares, with room in the middle
for the slave crew.
An advertisement in the Fayetteville
American sought to find builders for flats
measuring 48 feet by 10 feet and 30 feet by
6 feet according to F. Roy Johnson's
Rirerboating in Lower Carolina. The boats
only got larger. In 1851. according to
Johnson, the flat boat J.L Cassidy tied up
in Wilmington laden with 554 barrels of
naval stores.
Curiously, the flat boats were powered
by the tides. Headed upstream or down, the
flat boat crew rode the rising or falling tides,
tying up alongside the river as the tides
changed. Riding the rivers lunar surge, and
with the occasional help from long poles,
flats could negotiate the Cape Fear River as
far upstream as White Hall. 54 miles above
Wilmington.
We have few reminders of such a
time. The day before my river trip I drive
out to the Ev-Henwood Nature Preserve, a
174-acre tract of land bordering Town
Creek, a Cape Fear tributary about 1 2
miles south of Wilmington. A short hike
among loblolly pines, wax myrtles and
sw eet bay trees brings me to an odd
earthen feature: a mound of dirt heaped up
in the woods, with a concave center like
the crater of a miniature volcano. The
mound is about 5 feet tall, with American
holly and turkey oaks growing from the
center. I pace 36 steps around the lip — the
cone is about 105 feet in circumference.
This curious feature is the remnant of
a tar kiln: in fact, it is one of the largest and
best-preserved in the state. During the 18th
and 19th centuries, the Cape Fear woods
were pocked with backcountry kilns,
usually consisting of a clay-floored cone of
earth 30 feet in diameter. Small strips of
lightwood — the dead, resinous heartwood
of longleaf pine — were piled into the kiln
to a height of 12 or 14 feet. When the stack
was fired, heat forced resin from the wood.
This resin flowed along the clay kiln floor
and into a pipe, which drained the kiln of
tar that dripped into a wooden barrel buried
underground. The fire would bum for four
to five days, producing 160 to 180 barrels
of tar. each barrel holding about 32 gallons.
In the century before the Civil War.
the Cape Fear low lands sparkled with kiln
fires. Pungent black pine smoke drifted
across the river, where slaves sang
chanteys as they poled the flats with the
rising tides. But North Carolina's naval
stores industry suffered after the Civil War.
The vast longleaf forests were leveled, and
the demand for pitch and tar decreased
with the advent of steel-hulled ships and
wire and cable rigging. Naval stores would
continue to be produced in the region into
the 20th century, but it would be a mere
remnant of the enterprise that turned the
lower Cape Fear into a cornerstone of the
British empire.
BELOW ROAN ISLAND, the long
marsh-fringed left bank of the river signals
a shift in topography. Gone are the high
bluffs nodding over the stream. The
married flow of black w ater and brown
wends through a palm-fiat landscape,
w hite clouds scudding over distant trees.
The river w idens to 200 yards or more.
We pass the marshes of Robert Schaw's
old rice fields, duck under the bascule
bridge at Navassa. and skin Horseshoe
Bend, a large river oxbow used by sailing
ships as a natural turning basin.
And then, suddenly, the Wilmington
w aterfront appears. Just past the U.S. 421
bridge, the river's northeast and northwest
branches merge at Point Peter, and the
famous spires of Wilmington's churches
etch the horizon. The vast marshes recede.
In their place is the cosmopolitan town
clustered on a bluff on the river's eastern
bank.
Shipping out lumber and naval
stores. Wilmington w as the state's largest
city from 1840 to 1910. presenting a bank
of handsome brick and stone buildings
lording over a harbor whose wharves
bristled with ship masts. It's an impressive
view from the water ev en today, and one
that once was cov eted by a certain group
of Cape Fear mariners — the blockade
runners.
Thirteen days after the evacuation of
Fort Sumter. President Abraham Lincoln
declared a blockade of the entire South-
eastem coast, from Virginia's Fort Henry
to the Mexican border. Covering some
4.000 miles of shore. Lincoln's action
drew derision, but it also led to a booming
industry as ship captains scrambled to
deliver war material and everyday items
through the Federal blockade. Successful
runs meant enormous profits: goods often
were sold for 500 to 1 .000 percent of their
original cost. Buy S10 worth of quinine in
Nassau and you could sell it for S400 to
S600 in Southern ports.
Bankrolled largely by British
interests — English mills ran on Ameri-
can cotton — blockade runners first
slipped through the loose Federal noose in
anything that w ould float. But as steam
power matured, the Federal blockade
tightened with faster, more heavily armed
Continued
COASTWATCH 11
Top:
Though the Cape Fear
waters are peaceful now,
they were the backdrop
for violent struggle during
the Civil War, when
blockade runners
delivered war materials
and everyday goods to a
beleaguered South.
Middle:
Richard Lawrence, head
of the state's Underwater
Archaeology Unit, is an
expert on the maritime
history that has strewn
Civil War relics up and
down the Cape Fear
coast.
Bottom:
Archaeologist Nathan
Henry displays a rifle,
cannonballs and other
artifacts recovered from
shipwrecks in the Cape
Fear region.
PiUttos by Scoll D. Taylor
blockaders. England and the South
answered with ships designed to float low
and run fast: side-wheeled steamers with
low profiles and hinged masts, fueled with
smokeless anthracite coal. The nautical
game of cat-and-mouse began.
Sailing largely from Bermuda and
Nassau, the blockade runners waited for
dark nights to shield their craft and for
rising tides to carry them over the Cape
Fear's shoals. If discovered, blockade
runners would cut and run. If cornered,
they would drive their craft to the beach,
where Confederate and Union forces
clashed over salvage efforts.
"There were a lot of epic struggles
out there," Richard Lawrence tells me.
Lawrence is the head of the state's
Underwater Archaeology Unit (UAU),
housed in a compound of tan buildings and
brown sheds under live oaks on the Cape
Fear River near Fort Fisher. I visit him
there the day before my river trip, hoping
that he can show me the odd relic from a
blockade runner or two: a wormy piece of
ship planking, perhaps, or better yet a rifle
barrel or ship's wheel.
Like most North Carolinians, I've
heard of blockade runners, and can sketch
in the merest notion of how the blockade
operated. But I really have no idea of the
strategic role Wilmington played in
maintaining the South' s armaments and
economy during the war. And I am
certainly surprised by the treasure that
reposes in the UAU's nondescript storage
houses.
As many as 50 Federal ships were
stationed off the Cape Fear region's two
ocean inlets, but still there were 1,700
successful runs against the Union gauntlet
before Fort Fisher fell in January 1 865.
During the entire course of the war, 1, 149
blockade runners were captured, and 355
others were sunk or otherwise destroyed.
A tenth of those now lie underwater off the
Cape Fear shore.
One of those is the Modern Greece,
a British screw steamer pressed into block-
ade-running service early in the war. On
the morning of June 27, 1862, the ship was
sighted by a Federal cruiser just three miles
off Fort Fisher. In the ensuing chase,
another Federal blockader joined the
melee, and the Modem Greece turned to
shore and grounded herself. A hasty
salvage effort by Confederate forces
brought out liquor and clothing, and then
the guns of Fort Fisher opened up to scuttle
the ship before the enemy could arrive.
That was an easy enough task: The
blockade runner was carrying 1,000 tons
of gunpowder.
One hundred years later, the Ash
Wednesday Storm of 1962 raked away the
deep layer of sand covering the Modern
Greece. Discovered by Navy divers on
vacation, the newly emerged shipwreck
was the subject of intensive salvage efforts
throughout the summers of 1962 and 1963.
Some 1 1 ,500 artifacts have been recov-
ered. Many have been sent to museums
and institutions, but thousands more lie in
state in the UAU's various storerooms,
sheds and desalination tanks.
In one back room, behind the vats,
drums and various tubs that hold relics
from the recently salvaged ship thought to
be Blackbeard's Queen Anne's Revenge,
an astounding collection of Modern
Greece cargo lies shuttered away. Rows
of gunstocks recline on wooden pegs.
Corroded gun barrels are stacked in bins.
Piles of cannonballs rest on shelves. There
are chisels, axe heads, wrenches, pickaxes,
leather scabbards.
Divers recovered 148 complete
bayonets, 107 Bowie knives and 732
pocketknives packed in cases. Scores are
displayed in the storeroom. "It's probably
the biggest Civil War Bowie collection
anywhere," says Wayne Lusardi, a UAU
archaeologist. He pulls one knife from a
pegboard display. The German silver
pommel boasts a half-horse, half-alligator
figure in low relief. The motif, Lusardi
says, is reminiscent of Jim Bowie and his
lauded fighting techniques.
Next, Lusardi picks up four Enfield
rifles, corroded together, and explains how
immersion in saltwater affects such
artifacts. "As the iron is breaking down,"
he says, "rust is literally building up around
the artifact, and it forms a concretion —
a mixture of corrosion products like
hematites and magnetites, calcium
carbonate from sea creatures, and mixtures
of shells and sand."
To the untrained eye, the mass of rust,
metal and assorted gunk seems a total loss.
But conservators use X-rays to see what
lies within the balls of rust, and pneumatic
air chisels and hand tools to remove the
layers of concretion. Next, artifacts go into
desalination tanks — basically rubber tubs
filled with water and soda ash — and then
into electrolysis.
That process takes an enormous
amount of time, and no small pot of
money. "Unfortunately," explains Nathan
Henry, another UAU archaeologist, "it
takes a certain amount of resources to
conserve these things, and there's not a
good place to put them. These rifles don't
need to be in our back room; they need to
be out where the public can see them. But
too often, the stuff you pull from underwa-
ter isn't really museum quality. They can
be pretty rough."
But they have an allure, a sense of
history, that polished carbines and
immaculate reproduction uniforms can
hardly match.
I can't help but think of those artifacts
as Bahen and I putter past the Wilmington
waterfront. Only 39 miles of the lower
Cape Fear have passed beneath our boat,
and we are loathe to bring the day to an
end. It is quite a different emotion than the
one expressed by old blockade-runners as
they caught sight of Cape Fear's port city.
"It will be difficult to erase from my
memory the excitement of the evening we
made our little craft fast alongside the quay
at Wilmington," wrote the captain of the
blockade runner Don of his first successful
run of the blockade. "The congratulations
we received, the champagne-cocktail we
imbibed, the eagerness with which we
gave and received news...."
No cheering crowds greet us at the
boat ramp, but there are other profits from
our river run. Before the Dons docking
and since, the lower Cape Fear's riches
have drawn the adventurous and curious
alike. I suspect it will always be so. □
LEARN MORE ABOUT
Cape Fear History
When summer ends and
snorkelers, sunbathers and various
other seasonal seafarers depart, a
quieter, more contemplative beauty
envelops the Cape Fear region. For
many, if s the perfect time to pay a visit
— especially for history buffs, because
the N.C. Maritime History Council will
host its annual conference Oct. 28-30
at the Cape Fear Museum in
Wilmington.
The Cape Fear region will be the
focus of the conference. Topics include
Wilmington architecture, underwater
archaeology of the Cape Fear River, the
settlement of Charles Town and the
Barbados/Cape Fear connection,
archaeological and historical aspects of
Brunswick Town, and the Cape Fear
region during Civil War times.
The conference opens with a
reception Thursday evening. Friday
includes an optional field trip, presenta-
tions and dinner. The conference ends
Saturday at noon. There will be a
registration fee. Council membership is
not required.
For more information, contact
Richard Lawrence of the N.C. Depart-
ment of Cultural Resources, Underwater
Archaeology Unit, P.O. Box 58, Hwy.
421 South, Kure Beach, NC 28449,
910/458-9042. E-mail: rlawrence@
ncsl.dcr.state.nc.us.
A 1 992 Coastwatch special
edition, North Carolina's First Inhabit-
ants, details archaeologists' efforts to
unearth clues to Native American
history. One article describes the Cape
Fear-area Waccamaw tribe's efforts to
reclaim and recover its lost heritage.
To order a reprint, ask for
publication UNC-SG-92-13 from North
Carolina Sea Grant, Box 8605, NC
State University, Raleigh, NC 27695-
8605. Please include a check or money
order for $2.50 to North Carolina
Sea Grant. For further assistance, call
919/515-2454. B -C.H.V.
COASTWATCH 13
Pettigrew
Staterark
HOME TO ANCIENT LAKE, TREES, CANOES
A
By Ann Green • Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
Sid Shearin heads
deep into the forest at Pettigrew State
Park, he points to a majestic bald
cypress tree that towers near the Lake
Phelps shoreline.
Several years ago, Shearin, the
park's superintendent, nicknamed the
120-foot tree the "Lake Phelps monster"
because of its bizarre shape and hollow
spots that look like peering eyes. The
tree's swollen buttress has a cavity large
enough for children to hide in.
"This tree probably got started in
the water 100 or 200 years ago," says
Shearin. "The shoreline has gradually
caught up with it. We think this area on
the northern rim of the lake is a virgin
forest."
The mighty trees are so unusual
that Shearin has named several of them
— from the "wishing well," a hollow
sycamore stump, to "the tunnel," a
hollow sycamore tree that can be
entered from the picnic area or parking
lot. "I'm the tree nut of the state park
system," says Shearin. "Trees are my
bag. I started naming trees when I
started having children."
During a "Paddle to the Sea"
workshop several years ago, Shearin
shared his enthusiasm with North
Carolina Sea Grant education specialist
Lundie Spence and teachers from across
the state. "By the end of the workshop,
we were all hugging the trees and
measuring their diameters," says Spence.
Draped in Spanish moss, the
cypress trees along the northern shore of
Lake Phelps — the state's second largest
natural lake — evoke an eerie, mystical
feeling. They also give you a glimpse
into an area in northeastern North
Carolina that was once dominated by
swamplands.
Hike farther down a short trail
covered with cypress needles and
discover the 350-foot boardwalk on
Moccasin Overlook that extends into
Lake Phelps.
"This is the most scenic point in the
park," says Fred Spear, the son of the late
Robert Spear, Pettigrew Park's chief
ranger for more than 40 years. "In the
winter, this is the best place to view
waterfowl."
Away from the water's edge, large
sweetgum and tulip poplar trees domi-
nate the forest, and vines as large as
human thighs wind their way up some
trees.
Continued
At right: A towering bald cypress tree is nicknamed the "Lake Phelps monster"
because of its bizarre shape and hollow spots.
14 HIGH SEASON 1999
The shore of Lake Phelps is surrounded by diverse plants and ancient forests.
Many of the mighty trees have been
named state and national tree champions.
In 1992, there were eight state champi-
ons. Five years after that, the swamp bay
and coastal plain willow were named
national champions based on their height,
the spread of their branches and their
trunk circumference or girth.
Nature lovers are attracted to the
park's wetlands, trees and wildflowers,
which lend color and beauty to the
forests. In the spring, white Atamasco
lilies blanket almost one acre.
The 1,144-acre park, tucked away in
the fertile farmlands of Washington and
Tyrrell counties, is home to Lake Phelps,
known as an angler's paradise throughout
the east because of its bass fishing.
"It is known for fishing more than the
other lakes in the state park system," says
Shearin. "The big three are large-mouth
bass, yellow perch and pumpkinseed."
For more than 35 years, recreational
fisher Dick Davis has been reeling in
bass at the crystal clear lake.
"I like it because you can wade in
Lake Phelps and get bass," says Davis,
who lives in Creswell. "This lake is as
good as you can get for bass fishing in
northeastern North Carolina."
Fishers also use the 300-foot fishing
pier at Cypress Point.
Occupying one of the highest sites in
the area, Lake Phelps — which stretches
over 16,600 acres of water — has an
unusual ecology. It is shallow, with an
average depth of 4.5 feet and maximum
depth of 9 feet. The water is fresh but acidic
due to tannic acid from the surrounding
peat lands. When the water is clear, you
can see down to the sandy bottom.
"Lake Phelps and White Lake are
the only clear lakes in North Carolina,"
says Shearin. "Since there is no city or
agricultural runoff into the lake, it is one
of North Carolina's least polluted bodies
of water. Only rain feeds into the lake."
The shallow water and wind
conditions make the lake ideal for
16 HIGH SEASON 1999
shallow-draft sailboats, canoeing and
windsurfing.
It is rarely crowded and great for
kids, says Mike Noles, who runs a rental
company and campground on Lake
Phelps. "We say it is one of the best-kept
secrets in eastern North Carolina."
Bikers can cycle the north and western
shores of Lake Phelps. The trail runs over
eight miles through the big-tree forest,
near scenic overlooks, and to historic
Somerset Plantation and other sites.
"Pettigrew is the only state park in
the eastern part of the state with bike
paths," says Shearin.
Formed on a vast peninsula
between the Albemarle and Pamlico
sounds, Lake Phelps is thought to be
38,000 years old. Scientists have long
puzzled over its origin.
"One theory is that wind and wave
action carved out the lake when the
ocean covered eastern North Carolina,"
says Shearin. "Another popular legend
is that peat fires burned a hole big
enough for a lake. Some even say Paul
Bunyan made a footprint that formed a
sinkhole."
Artifacts reveal the presence of
Native Americans as early as 8,000 B.C.
The most fascinating discovery was a
collection of dugout canoes — 30 at last
count — found in the lake after an
extensive forest fire in 1985. The lake
level dropped when water was pumped for
the fire.
"A park official discovered the
canoes while checking on the tundra
swans," says Spear. "The water was so
shallow that a swan's web feet brushed
the sand off of a canoe."
The Algonquian Indians made the
dugout canoes by burning the interior
of cypress logs and scraping away
the charred wood until only a shell
remained. Archaeologists believe the
seasonal campers sank their canoes in the
lake's shallow water to store them until
the next hunting or fishing season.
Some of the canoes are displayed at
the boat ramp on the lake's northeastern
side. One that extends 37 feet is thought
to be the longest known canoe in the
Southeast. Another one, built more than
4,400 years ago, is the second-oldest
canoe in the country. Because the canoes
are so ancient, some are mere remnants.
Others remain mostly intact.
"The restricted water movement and
the acidity of the water at Lake Phelps
contributed to their preservation," says
Shearin. "Most of the canoes are still in
the lake."
The canoes aren't the only historical
attraction at the park. To get a glimpse
into plantation life, you can tour
Somerset Place, which occupies eight
acres. With its formal gardens, expansive
porches and expensive furnishings, the
antebellum mansion reflects the lavish
lifestyle of wealthy planter Josiah
Collins III. The surrounding outbuild-
ings served the slaves, who cultivated
corn and rice.
A mile east of Somerset, Civil War
buffs can view the graves of three mem-
bers of the Pettigrew family — Confed-
erate General James Johnson Pettigrew,
the park's namesake; his father,
Ebenezer Pettigrew, a prominent planter
and congressman; and his grandfather,
Charles Pettigrew, the first bishop-elect
of the Episcopal Church in North Caro-
lina. James Pettigrew led North
Carolina's 26th Regiment in the famous
high-water-mark charge at Gettysburg.
"Pettigrew was a brilliant general,"
says Shearin, who has dressed as
General Pettigrew during park pro-
grams. "The first day in battle he was
seriously wounded and
survived."
The Pettrigrews
lived on a family farm,
Bonarva, which was
nationally recognized
as a model of scientific
farming and manage-
ment in the 1830s. All
that remains of the
plantation is some
rubble near the
carriage road and
several trees planted by
the family.
During the 1930s,
the Federal Farm
Security Administra-
tion purchased the
Collins mansion and
surrounding lands,
which were incorpo-
rated into the Scupper-
nong Farms Resettle-
ment Project. The state
White Atamasco lilies blanket a trail on the northern shore of Lake Phelps.
Continued
COASTWATCH 17
Pettigrew Park Superintendent Sid Shearin is known as the "tree nut" of the state park system.
gained control of the park in 1939, and
Pettigrew became the sixth state park. In
1998, 82,000 visitors came to the park,
according to Shearin.
With its abundance of wildlife, the
park has become a haven for bird-
watchers. Ducks, geese and swans flock
to the park in the winter. "December is
the best month to view the waterfowl,"
says Shearin.
Osprey, owls and hawks also perch
on the park's giant trees and feast on
rodents from adjacent fields of corn and
soybeans. The lakeshore provides a
habitat for kingfishers, herons, egrets
and other birds that seek food at the
water's edge.
It is not unusual to see white-tailed
deer, raccoons, muskrats, possums and
foxes roaming through the woods,
particularly on the south side. Numerous
black bears, which weigh up to 600
pounds, live in the park as well.
"We were out fishing one day and
saw something black in the water," says
Spear. "It was a young bear swimming
in the water. Sometimes the mothers on
the south side of the lake bring their
cubs to the north side to wean them."
Endangered red wolves, reintro-
duced in northeastern North Carolina in
1987, roam along a 500-acre pocosin
tract, an upland swamp. The tract, which
borders the Pocosin Lake National
Wildlife Refuge and is near an access to
the lake, has never been bulldozed. It is
filled with bay trees, pines, gallberry
shrubs and sundew, a carnivorous plant
that eats insects.
With its abundant wildlife, colorful
history and popular fishing spots, the
park is a great discovery for North
Carolina travelers.
"I think it is one of the most
beautiful lakes that I have been on,"
says Davis. "You can find lily pads,
reeds, trees and different birds along the
shore. If the lake is clear, the stumps and
logs on the bottom make a pretty sight.
When the trees turn in November, the
forest is absolutely gorgeous. It's like
going to the maoutains." □
Pettigrew State Park is seven miles
south ofCreswell off U.S. 64 and S.R.
1168. Park hours vary by season.
Daylight hours are: June through August,
8 a.m. to 9 p.m.; April, May and Septem-
ber, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.; March and October,
8 a.m. to 7 p.m. ; and November through
February, 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Primitive youth tent camps are
available. To ensure availability,
reseiyations are advised. Thirteen family
campsites are available on a first-come,
first-served basis. For more information,
call the park office at 252/797-4475 or
visit the park's Web site: http:/ils.unc.edu/
parkproject/pett.html .
18 HIGH SEASON 1999
Disoove
Resources
AT COASTAL STATE PARKS
By Ann Green
Along North Carolina's coastal
plain, state parks showcase unique
natural resources and treasures — from
loggerhead turtles nesting on the beach
at Fort Fisher to chiseled cliffs along
the west bank of the Neuse River.
Travelers can view many of the
unique resources in the state's 15
coastal parks.
"All the coastal plain's state parks
in North Carolina are different," says
Tom Howard, naturalist for the N.C.
Division of Parks and Recreation.
"Each one is representative of the
natural community around it."
At the parks, residents also can
get a close-up of wild lands that would
be inaccessible if owned by private
citizens, says Jack Thigpen, North
Carolina Sea Grant coastal recreation
and tourism specialist. In addition,
they can learn much from the park's
interpretive programs.
A few of the coastal parks are
highlighted below. For a listing of all
coastal parks and park hours, visit the
Web at http://ils.unc.edu/parkpwject/
ncparks.html.
• Carolina Beach State Park
Spot the rare Venus flytrap and
other species of insect-eating plants
along five miles of trails. Stop and rest
at the new 5,000-square foot visitors
center. The center's exhibit hall,
which focuses on the biodiversity
of the park's plant and animal life,
will open this fall.
Birds throng the shore of Roanoke Sound
at lockey's Ridge State Park.
The park is 10 miles south of
Wilmington offHwy. 421 in New Hanover
County. For more infotmation, call 910/
458-8206.
• Fort Fisher State Recreation Area
Spend the day away from crowds on
a four-mile stretch of undeveloped beach
where shell-seekers can find treasures.
Catch a glimpse of a loggerhead sea turtle
nesting, or pelicans and other birds
swirling and turning in the wind.
The recreation area is five miles
south of Carolina Beach, off US. 421 in
New Hanover County. From Brunswick
County take the Southport-Fort Fisher
ferry. For more infoimation, call 9101
458-5798.
• Fort Macon State Park
Tour the restored fort that stood guard
over Beaufort Harbor during the Civil War
or hike the Elliot Coues Natural
Trail, which circles through a shrub
thicket and back to the parking area
To reach Fort Macon, take
U.S. 70 to Morehead City, cross the
bridge to Atlantic Beach and turn
left onto Hwy. 58. The park has a
bathhouse that is open all year.
For more infonnation, call 2521
726-3775.
• Hammocks Beach State Park
Venture to Bear Island and
view one of the most beautiful and
unspoiled beaches on the Atlantic.
Discover where loggerhead sea
turtles come ashore under cover of
darkness to nest above the tide line.
The park's mainland is in
Onslow County. From Swansboro,
take Hammocks Beach Road to the
park entrance adjacent to Queens
Creek. A passenger ferry departs for
Bear Island. The park is accessible
only by boat or passenger ferry. For
more information and ferry times,
call 910/3264881.
• Jockey's Ridge State Park
Fly a kite or hang glide on the
highest sand dune on the East Coast.
Tour fascinating exhibits about sand,
winds and weather at the visitors'
center.
The park is at Milepost 12 on
U.S. 158 bypass in Nags Head. Turn
on Carolista Drive. For more
information, call 252/441-7132. m
COASTWATCH 19
The North Carolina coast
is a study in contrasts,
from bustling boardwalks to sleepy
sounds, from ecological wonders to
economic windfalls.
In the past generation, coastal life
has changed as more visitors and new
residents arrive in the 20 coastal
counties. For some, the development
seems fast and harsh. Others see
economic development hampered by
government regulation.
At the center of coastal debate is
the state's Coastal Area Management
Act, known as CAMA. Since 1974, the
law has set the stage for development
decisions in crucial areas.
property owners to control the use of
their land.
While CAMA requires the state to
protect the unique coastal ecosystem by
designating areas of environmental
concern, the law also calls for economic
development in counties that tradition-
ally are among the state's poorest. The
combined mission is "sustainable
development," Clark says.
Donna Moffitt, director of the N.C.
Division of Coastal Management,
agrees. "We've got to ensure that the
development doesn't ruin the resources
that draw people to the coast."
ancing Envir
and Economic Needs by Katie Mosher
CAMA requires counties to adopt
land-use plans and establishes the 15-
member Coastal Resources Commission
(CRC) to set state policy. The commis-
sion reflects a variety of interests, from
local government to developers, fishers
to conservation groups. The panel also
includes three at-large members and
experts in coastal engineering, marine
biology, coastal agriculture and forestry.
The CRC also has input from the
Coastal Resources Advisory Council,
which has representatives from each
county.
The CRC brings many voices to the
discussion of coastal issues, often
forging compromises on policies, says
Walter Clark, coastal law and policy
specialist for North Carolina Sea Grant.
Many debates are split between two
distinct philosophies, Clark explains.
One calls for the state to protect the
health, safety and welfare of the public
and the environment. The other calls for
A Coastal
Boom
In the 1940s, the North Carolina
coast had traditional fishing villages and
some vacation spots near Wilmington
and Morehead City. Compared to
Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach or Ocean
City, Md., the North Carolina beach
communities kept a simpler flavor, says
Charles Jones of the N.C. Division of
Coastal Management. "North Carolina
has developed into the family beach
atmosphere," he says.
By the dawn of the 1970s, the post-
war boom had sprouted new communi-
ties on Topsail Island and the Outer
Banks. State and local leaders began to
see a need for a comprehensive look at
coastal development. "There was a
tremendous influx of new residents in
the coastal area," recalls David Stick,
former chairman of the Dare County
Commissioners and of the CRC.
At the same time, the federal
Coastal Zone Management Act said that
if the state did not develop plans for
coastal areas, the federal government
would. "That scared the devil out of
everybody," Stick says.
CAMA had an early benefit. "For
the first time, it forced local officials to
take a hard look at the consequences of
actions they take," Stick says.
CAMA has drawbacks, such as an
inability of some officials to consider the
human side of certain requests. "I've
cursed it myself," Stick says of CAMA.
Webb Fuller, Nags Head town
manager, says the timing of CAMA was
critical, as an even greater surge would
come in the 1980s. "The framers were
visionaries. They were able to develop a
very broad structure that allowed for
specific rules and regulations."
Looking at the law's core values of
conservation, preservation and economic
development, Fuller says CAMA has
worked. "Nobody gets everything they
wanted. If we didn't have this, we would
have a hodge-podge of development that
could have destroyed some unique
natural areas."
Todd Miller, executive director of
the N.C. Coastal Federation, says
CAMA started strong but lost steam in
the 1980s. "For nearly two decades, the
tide has been ebbing on coastal protec-
tion efforts in North Carolina. It's too
early to say the tide has turned, but the
outgoing current has slacked somewhat."
Yet CAMA has frustrated some
business leaders. "It has been more
successful on the environmental
protection side than on the economic
development side," says Donald
Kirkman, executive director of the
Carteret County Economic Development
Council.
Proposed rules for shorelines along
rivers and estuaries now spark strong
Continued
COASTWATCH 21
debates. The rules arose as developers'
focus shifted to the tributaries that feed
the state's sounds.
"Local governments are saying
enough is enough," Kirkman says. "We
are concerned about the ecosystem. We
want to protect it, but we can't look at it
in isolation."
The CRC has expanded the shore-
line discussion. "Fresh-water wetlands
are very important for filtering and ab-
sorption of storm water," Moffitt says.
State
Regulations,
Local
Planning
While CAMA affects all 20 coastal
counties, state officials are careful to
point out that state permit jurisdiction is
only for "areas of environmental
concern," or about 1 percent of the
coastal landmass.
Pounding waves and continuing erosion take their toll on oceanjront property.
Scott D. Taylor
"We don't have as big a stick as
some people say," Jones says. But that 1
percent draws much attention, as it
includes miles of sandy beaches and
acres of marshland. "We have authority
over some of the most environmentally
sensitive and most expensive proper-
ties," he says.
"The philosophy of CAMA is not
to stop development but to regulate it,"
Jones says. Powerful hurricanes in 1996
— Bertha and Fran — showed that
setback requirements minimize storm
damage, but can't eliminate it, he adds.
Even after a storm, the desire to
build on the oceanfront is strong, with
property owners checking the setback
requirements based on the historical rate
of erosion. "They ask, 'Where can I
Spencer M. Rogers
22 HIGH SEASON 1999
build?' Then they go to the minimum
line," Jones says.
Spencer Rogers, coastal engineer-
ing specialist for North Carolina Sea
Grant, says that the state was at the
forefront of ocean-hazard management
by considering both long-term erosion
and single-storm effects.
North Carolina pioneered a joint
permit process that consolidates federal
and state applications. "It is all one
house, one review process," says
Rogers, who serves on the advisory
council with Fuller.
CAMA also provides local
permitting officers. Routine requests
that could take three months and a
consultant's assistance in Florida often
are completed in a few days here,
Rogers says.
One of CAMA's best-known regu-
lations — a ban on seawalls and other
hardened structures along the oceanfront
Scon D. Taylor
— was added by the CRC in 1985.
"The ban is absolutely critical. That
is why we have nice sandy beaches,"
Moffitt says.
Eugene Tomlinson, CRC chairman,
agrees. "I am proud that the commis-
sion, to this point, has held that line," he
says. The state only allows exceptions to
preserve historical structures and crucial
roads.
"The ban on seawalls on the ocean-
front is probably the biggest positive
contribution of CAMA," Miller says.
Community leaders recognize the
value of oceanfront regulations. But
nature does not always follow an
expected course, and communities must
look for solutions.
"No one predicted the degree of
erosion," Kirkman says, citing current
problems from Pine Knoll Shores to
Emerald Isle on Bogue Banks, areas
developed after CAMA was in place.
"In two or three years, large structures
could be threatened if we don't do
something," he adds.
This year, the CRC will review
recommendations from the Coastal
Hazard Science Panel, which includes
Rogers and other Sea Grant researchers.
The panel looked at historical data and
geological features of specific sections
of the coast.
Sandbags have been permitted in
some areas as an emergency solution to
erosion problems. But CRC rules limit
the time bags can be exposed.
Beach nourishment, pumping sand
back onto the shoreline, is expensive.
Questions remain as to who should pay
for such projects: oceanfront property
owners, counties that benefit from
property taxes and tourism the
beachfront properties generate, or the
state. "We need an overall state program
on nourishment." Fuller says.
Continued
COASTWATCH 23
CAMA not only sets state regula-
tions; it also requires local land-use
plans. The plans are crucial to some
development proposals, as the state
cannot grant a permit that would conflict
with a local land-use plan. Also, federal
permits must meet state and local
consistency criteria.
Stick, the former CRC chairman,
wrote a handbook for public participa-
tion in land-use planning because he
saw too many communities use static
plans. "The land-use plans are the key to
the whole thing," Stick says.
Counties are required to have plans
in place, but towns and cities are not.
Local enthusiasm for the plans varies,
and the CRC is reviewing the process.
"Some use land-use planning as a
sophisticated tool to implement their
vision," Jones says.
Other communities simply meet the
state standard, then let the plans gather
dust. "They don't have a lot of day-to-
day impact on the growth and develop-
ment of a community," Kirkman says.
For example, eastern Carteret
County has no zoning in communities
along Core Sound. While fishing
families have much to lose if pollution
diminishes water quality, these commu-
nities are skeptical of government
regulation, Kirkman says.
Beach
Access,
Reserves
Added
State officials love to speak of
successful CAMA programs, such as the
beach access and coastal reserve
programs. "We've had success in non-
regulatory areas that we don't get a
whole lot of credit for," Jones says.
The ocean has always been
considered a public resource, but as
Some coastal projects include the movement of sand.
Division of Coastal Management
beachfront property became more
valuable, access became more difficult.
The state initiated a grant program to
encourage communities to purchase
strips of land and build public walkways
over dunes.
"We have such a tradition of the
public being allowed to use our beach
resources," Moffitt says. The 230 access
points often have parking and restroom
facilities, even an outdoor shower.
Orange and blue signs mark the access
points — and remind visitors of the
CAMA connection.
The state is also fighting a lawsuit
filed by Currituck County property
owners, who dispute the tradition of a
public right-of-way along the sandy
beach from the first line of vegetation to
the high-water mark. "We will continue
to ensure that the public has access to
the beaches," Moffitt says. If the state
loses the suit, visitors may not be able to
walk along the beach at high tide
without going on private property. "It
would be a huge negative impact on
tourism," she says.
CAMA also established a system of
estuarine reserves, including Buxton
Woods and Bald Head Woods in 2,000
acres of maritime forest. "We are able to
preserve those areas — the ultimate pres-
ervation is to purchase it," Jones says.
The reserves are designed for
education and other low-impact uses. The
state plans a ninth reserve in Tyrrell
County. The site, which will double the
acreage in the reserve system, includes one
of the last stands of Atlantic white cedars.
Challenges
Ahead
What of the next 25 years of coastal
development?
"The challenges for the future are
immense," Moffitt says, citing a need for
developments that are both environmen-
24 HIGH SEASON 1999
Sandbags are considered emergency measures available only for a limited time.
tally sensitive and aesthetically pleasing.
Other challenges include protection of
commercial fishing as a livelihood,
efforts to minimize loss of life and
property from storm damage, and
erosion control.
Miller says CRC appointments are
crucial. "The most critical and fragile
coastal resources have received added
protection from the program, but their
long-term protection is uncertain,"
he says.
Fuller says the CRC focus has
shifted from planning to regulating.
"The rules that served us well in the
last 25 years may not serve us well for
the next 25 years," Fuller says.
Stick wants local governments to
Spencer M. Rogers
utilize the existing structure to influence
state decisions. "My main disappointment
is there is too little direct contact between
elected officials and their representatives on
the advisory council and the CRC," he says.
To guide future development,
Kirkman supports the creation of a
Sustainable Coast Corporation to promote
environmentally sound development
in coastal counties. The independent
nonprofit corporation would be insulated
from political pressures, he says. It would
coordinate technical data from universities
and other sources.
Tomlinson, the CRC chairman,
wants North Carolina beaches to remain
an alternative to Virginia Beach and
Myrtle Beach. "My greatest concern is
that we are going to develop beyond our
capacity to support," he says.
The commission, he says, must
continue its course to promote coastal
projects that are "safe, sensible and
sustainable." □
Michael Halminski
COASTWATCH 25
THE
CATCH
tol(bu:
Stay Safe
on the
Water
this
Summer
By Re nee Wolcott Shannon
summer, there are more
people on the beaches and in the water
than ever, but it isn't the best time of
year for catching fish. "You can catch
pompano, Spanish mackerel and king
mackerel in summer," says Bob Hines,
North Carolina Sea Grant fisheries
agent. But spring and fall are the best
times of year for fishing.
So what's a fisher to do during the
long, hot summer days? Many still take
to the water. A love for fishing and a
love for boats often go hand in hand.
And being prepared for a safe, success-
ful sail or an exhilarating spin across the
bay in a fast motorboat is just as
important — if not more so — than
being prepared to reel in the big one.
In 1998, the N.C. Wildlife Re-
sources Commission (WRC), which
shares responsibility for enforcing
boating safety regulations with the U.S.
26 HIGH SEASON 1999
THE
CATCH
Coast Guard, reported 25 1 boat
accidents; 35 people were killed. And
more boat-related accidents occur in
June, July, August and September than
in the rest of the months combined.
"Accidents happen, but almost all
of them are preventable," says Lt.
Michael Brogdanowicz, hunting and
boating safety coordinator for the WRC.
"Most fatalities aren't the result of
fantastic crashes — somebody simply
falls overboard or ends up in the water
and drowns."
Lt. Brogdanowicz recommends
wearing a life preserver or personal
floatation device (PFD), keeping a sharp
lookout and avoiding alcohol to reduce
your risk of an accident. PFDs have the
greatest impact on your ability to
survive a boating crisis, and operator
inattention is the number one cause of
accidents, says Brogdanowicz. PFDs
are now required when riding personal
watercraft such as Jet Skis and Sea
Doos.
And it may be tempting to drink on
board your boat — many people's idea
of a romantic cruise involves a glass of
wine or a mug of beer at sunset — but
alcohol mixes no better with seagoing
vessels than with cars, and similar
"drunk driving" laws apply. Even if the
boat operator does not drink, intoxicated
people can prove dangerous to them-
selves or to the skipper. Alcohol use is
the second leading cause of fatal
accidents on the water.
Fishers and boaters should also
remember that June 1 marks the
beginning of hurricane season every
year — and it isn't over until Nov. 30.
During summer, it's especially impor-
tant to keep an eye on the weather.
Don't go out unless you are sure your
boat can handle the wind and wave
conditions predicted.
Once you are on the water, watch
the clouds and the sea for danger signs.
Rip tides can create high waves capable
of swamping a boat, and fog or heavy
rain can decrease visibility. The
National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration's Weather Radio reports
are a must for safety-conscious boaters.
If you get caught in a thunderstorm,
stay below decks if possible. Lightning
and strong, gusty winds make for
unpredictable and dangerous conditions.
Of course, hurricanes are many
steps above your average summer
thundershower. Every year. North
Carolina Sea Grant fisheries agent Jim
Bahen helps Wilmington residents get
their boats out of the water when
hurricanes threaten. "The problem is,
nobody thinks about it until it's too
late," he says. "Once the weather service
says a hurricane might swing in toward
North Carolina, you've got a two-day
window" in which to secure property.
And with so many new residents
along the coast, Bahen says, many don't
know what to expect when a hurricane
hits. "We've got so many new people
coming to the coast and buying boats —
if they're from Topeka, Kan., or Boone,
N.C., they don't know what goes on
down here."
Bahen recommends taking care of
your boat as early as possible when a
hurricane is predicted. If you have a
small craft, pull it out of the water and
take it to high ground. "The best thing is
to take a small boat off the trailer and fill
it full of water," Bahen says. "Try to get
it away from trees."
For larger boats, search out a
"hurricane hole" that is protected from
wind and strong waves. Anchoring in
the lee of an island or in an enclosed,
inland marina may help protect your
vessel. Putting out extra anchors can
also keep your boat from swinging
dangerously or breaking loose and
damaging others' property.
Brogdanowicz says boaters should
stay clear of inlets in heavy weather and
search out a sheltered spot with few
structures or other boats around. You
can't anticipate what will happen in a
hurricane, he says. "You just don't take
chances."
So pack your PFD along with your
fishing poles this summer, and keep an
eye on the weather. The North Carolina
Sea Grant staff wishes you happy sails.
Free Boating Publications
from North Carolina Sea
Grant
• Hurricane Preparedness
Poster for Boaters describes how to
prepare small or large recreational boats
for an impending hurricane. UNC-SG-
86-08; poster.
Continued
COASTWATCH 27
THE
CATCH
• Lightning and
Boats describes how to
protect your boat from
lightning using a method
that directs electricity safely
through the boat with less
chance of damage or injury.
UNC-SG-95-05; 12 pages.
• Marine Distress
Communications Form
provides step-by-step
instructions for boaters and
commercial fishers to
broadcast distress calls
during emergencies. UNC-
SG-93-04; sticker.
To order these items,
specify the title and publica-
tion number and mail to:
North Carolina Sea Grant,
NC State University,
Box 8605, Raleigh, NC
27695-8605, or call 919/
515-2454. □
For more informa-
tion on boating safety and
North Carolina boating
regulations, including
those applying to
personal watercraft
(PWC), contact the
enforcement division of
the N.C. Wildlife Re-
sources Commission at
919/733-7191. For
information about free
boating courses, call the
boating education
hotline: 800/336-2628.
STAY SAFE WITH WATER WISE
What would you do if
your boat turned over far
from shore? How would you
keep warm? Should you
swim for the beach or wait
for help?
If you don't know the
answers to these questions,
pick up a copy of Water Wise:
Safety for the Recreational
Boater, byjerry Dzugan and
Susan Clarkjensen. Alaska
Sea Grant and the U.S.
Marine Safety Association
have teamed up to publish this
thorough, informative book on
boating safety and accident
prevention, and North Carolina Sea
Grant has copies available.
Turn to Water Wise for concise,
clear instructions on how to choose
a personal floatation device (PFD),
how to prepare for a safe trip, how to
gauge the weather and how to signal for
help in an emergency. Chapters include
"Alcohol, Fatigue, and Seasickness,"
"Surviving in the Water," "First Aid
Afloat" and "Safe Seamanship."
Line drawings, photographs and
tables illustrate each point, making this
a practical guide you'll turn to
again and again. A resource list
at the end of the book provides
phone numbers and addresses
for national and local boating
organizations.
"Each year more than 78
million boaters take to
America's waterways," the
book says, "and according to
the U.S. Coast Guard, as many
as 800 die in boating-related
accidents." Read Water Wise to
improve your chances of
avoiding accidents and surviving
boat-related crises.
To order a copy, mail a check
for $1 2 to North Carolina Sea
Grant, NC State University, Box
8605, Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
Write UNC-SG-99-05 in the memo
line. □ — R.W.S.
28 HIGH SEASON J 999
BOOK
MARKET
By Renee Wolcott Shannon
I
-t's summer in North Carolina
— time for packing up the kids and
driving to the beach. On this trip, be
sure to pack a sack full of books along
with your sunscreen and sand toys.
I have a pile of great reads to
recommend — books chock-full of
activities to keep kids busy, illustra-
tions to make them wonder and words
to make them listen. They'll learn a lot,
too — about everything from poetry to
porpoises.
So enjoy the sand, sun and surf,
but don't forget these Coastwatch
picks. Even if you don't have children
of your own, these books will bring out
the kid in you.
• Discover Nature at the Sea-
shore: Things to Know and
Things to Do by Elizabeth P. Lawlor,
illustrated by Pat Archer. 1992.
Stackpole Books, Cameron and Kelker
Streets, P.O. Box 1831, Harrisburg, PA
17105. 211 pages. Paperback, $14.95.
ISBN 0-8117-3079-4.
Naturalists of all ages will enjoy
this commonsense guide to exploring
Continued
COASTWATCH 29
BOOK
the various shoreline environments:
the rocky intertidal, salt marsh and
sandy beach. Lawlor, an associate
professor of science education at
Hunter College, New York City,
suggests a basic kit of tools for
investigating life along the shore and
then plunges you into the fascinating
secret lives of common marine plants
and animals.
Her clear prose guides you
through simple experiments and
observations that focus on everything
from barnacles and seaweed to fish
and periwinkles, from sea stars and
shorebirds to dunes and tides. She
uncovers the ancient history of the
horseshoe crab and follows the
aggressive, fastidious fiddler crab
through its cycles of hibernation,
mating, resting and feeding.
Each chapter opens with an
overview of a particular plant or
animal and its habitat. The "Observa-
tions" section provides suggestions
for studying the target
organism and lists questions
to focus on when taking
notes. In "Explorations,"
Lawlor describes simple
experiments that reveal even
more about the habitats and the
creatures who live there.
In the chapter on mud
worms, Lawlor begins by
illustrating marine worms'
importance in the food chain. She
goes on to describe several different
species of common mud worms,
including the paddle worm, parch-
ment worm and blood worm.
The author asks you to dig up
worms, examine them swimming and
digging, and to search for eyes and
"teeth." The "exploration" involves
taking a worm's pulse.
This is a well-organized, informa-
tive book. Lawlor provides both
common and scientific names for all
H SEASON 1999
BOOK
MARKET
the species mentioned, includes lists of
necessary tools and skills in each
chapter, and suggests safe ways to
handle and return the animals. Archer's
detailed drawings, along with clear
tables and diagrams, make Discover
Nature at the Seashore a useful book
for both budding scientists and long-
time nature lovers.
• Porpoises by Andrew Read. 1999.
WorldLife Library. Voyageur Press
Inc., 123 North Second St., P.O. Box
338, Stillwater, MN 55082. 72 pages.
Paperback, $16.95. ISBN 0-89658420-8.
Do you know the difference
between a porpoise and a dolphin? You
will, after reading this fact-packed
book by Read, a Sea Grant researcher
and Duke University Marine Labora-
tory scientist.
Read explains that porpoises,
though related to dolphins, are from an
entirely different family — the
Phocoenidae — and that they are not
as familiar to many people. Shy,
elusive animals, they avoid contact
with humans and rarely ride bow-
waves or leap into the air like their
acrobatic cousins.
Aided by glossy, full-color
photographs, Read describes the six
species of porpoise, including the
harbor porpoise, Burmeister's porpoise,
and the extremely endangered vaquita.
He also details the life history of
porpoises, noting their exhausting
reproductive cycle among other facts
— gestation lasts 1 1 months, and
females often conceive again within six
weeks after giving birth.
Other chapters cover porpoise
behavior and ecology: what they eat,
how they use their blubber and what
their predators are. With his colleague
Andrew Westgate, Read has also
tagged and tracked porpoises, using
retrievable data tags to measure how
deep they dive.
Read closes with a discussion of
porpoise conservation efforts and why
they are necessary. Thousands of
porpoises die in gill nets every year,
and the vaquita may be near extinction.
Luckily, some conservation programs
are proving successful.
By the time you close this book,
you'll know more about porpoises than
you ever did before, and you'll have a
new appreciation for the intelligent,
social creatures roaming our ocean
waters.
• Until I Saw the Sea: A Collec-
tion of Seashore Poems by Allison
Shaw. 1995. Henry Holt and Company
Inc., 1 15 West 18th St., New York, NY
1001 1. 32 pages. Paperback, $6.95.
ISBN 0-8050-5794-3.
Beach lovers and poem readers of
all ages will love this bright, colorful
book. Brilliant photographs of shells,
boats and kids in primary colors — or
nothing at all — accompany short
poems that capture the salt and rhythm
of the ocean.
Celebrate the sea with old
favorites like John Masefield's "Sea
Fever" — / must go down to the seas
again, to the lonely sea and the sky, /
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to
steer her by ... — and new ones, like
Myra Cohn Livingston's "Seaweed":
Seaweed from high tide
where sand and breakers meet
gummy
on my tummy,
slippery
on my feet.
The large typeface and snappy
colors make this a perfect match for
young readers, and parents can use the
photographs to help very small children
with their colors.
With everything from e.e.
cummings to traditional ocean lulla-
bies, this eye-catching book is a real
seaside treasure.
• An Island Scrapbook: Dawn to
Dusk on a Barrier Island by
Virginia Wright-Frierson. 1998. Simon
and Schuster Books for Young Readers,
1 230 Avenue of the Americas, New
York, NY 10020. 36 pages. Hardcover,
$16.00. ISBN 0-689-81563-8.
This beautiful book is a work of art
from cover to cover. Wright-Frierson,
who lives in Wilmington, is an outstand-
ing illustrator as well as an author, and
her gorgeous watercolors bring the
pages to life.
An Island Scrapbook details a late-
summer day spent on one of North
Carolina's southernmost barrier islands
— home to alligators, cabbage palms,
pelicans and fiddler crabs. Wright-
Frierson and her daughter Amy pack
sketchbooks, pencils and paint and
capture the island in all its glory.
The text is packed with details
about the island habitat and its many
denizens. Wright-Frierson evokes "the
whispers of the rustling cordgrass, the
lapping of the tide, the call of a clapper
rail, and the skittering and claw-clicking
of fiddler crabs." You can almost smell
the sea.
Paintings chronicling a day on the
island are interspersed with scrapbook-
style pages from a naturalist's sketch
pad, noting the effects of hurricanes, the
shapes of dolphin and shark fins, sea
turtles' foods and the look-alike litter
that endangers them. As you join Amy
and her mother on their explorations of
the mudflats, maritime forest and beach,
you'll also learn a lot about loggerhead
nests, ocean pollution, marine conserva-
tion and the animals that make the
seashore their home.
Recently, An Island Scrapbook was
named to the highly acclaimed John
Burroughs List of Nature Books for
Young Readers. It will make a treasured
addition to any beachcomber's book-
shelf, keeping the spirit of the sea alive
long after summer is over. B
COASTWATCH 31
SEA
SCIENCE
David Eggleston 's blue crab research offers a new understanding of how hurricanes benefit crab crops.
Blue Crabs:
Study Reveab New Secrets
By Ann Green
professor of marine sciences at NC State
University. "The hurricane's winds drive
the crabs toward the western shore of the
Pamlico Sound and into the Croatan,
Albemarle and Currituck sounds. We
usually have bumper crops of juvenile crabs
after hurricanes."
After Hurricane Fran, Eggleston and
Etherington, an NC State graduate student
32 EARLY SUMMER 1999
L*AlSt
fust one day after Hurricane
Fran ripped through the salty, shallow
marshes of the Pamlico Sound, North
Carolina Sea Grant researchers David
Eggleston and Lisa Etherington stumbled
upon peat beds packed with juvenile blue
crabs.
By discovering the crabs inshore in
peat beds composed of old plant material,
Eggleston and Etherington identified an
unknown nursery habitat for early
juvenile crabs. In normal weather,
juvenile crabs don't settle inshore but
inhabit the seagrass beds along the sound
side of the Outer Banks.
"You only see pulses of crabs come
inshore after a hurricane or a tropical
storm," says Eggleston, an assistant
SEA
SCIENCE
and a Sea Grant fellow, also found a large
number of juvenile blue crabs in an
exotic species of submerged grass in the
mouth of the Albemarle and Currituck
sounds behind Kitty Hawk. The thick,
bushy grass, called Eurasian water-milfoil
or Myriophylum spicatum, grows so fast
that it can be a nuisance for boaters.
"These alternative nursery areas
mainly blink on after hurricanes," says
Eggleston. "They have the potential to
increase the nursery capabilities of the
entire sound system."
The Eurasian grass also serves as a
habitat for finfish, including the juvenile
red drum. "Red drum, which is fished
almost exclusively by recreational
fishers, has been overexploited," he says.
However, the most critical habitat
for juvenile crabs is sea-grass beds along
the sound side of the Outer Banks. The
beds consistently receive post-larval crabs
during stormy and non-stormy periods.
Eggleston says these nursery
grounds — which are vital to fishery
health — are vulnerable to human impact
and must command a high priority in terms
of conservation. "They can be threatened
by leaking septic waste from soundside
development and by Jet Skis and small
boats cutting through them," he says.
These findings are part of
Eggleston' s ongoing blue crab study.
With initial funding from Sea Grant, he
began a large study of recruitment of
juvenile blue crabs in North Carolina
more than four years ago. The N.C.
Division of Marine Fisheries, National
Science Foundation and Z. Smith
Reynolds Foundation have also sup-
ported his research.
Although the hurricanes may offer a
bounty of crabs, there are other concerns
about the health of the blue crab fishery.
Eggleston has studied overfishing in the
Pamlico and Albemarle sounds as well as
habitat changes from building jetties
outside Oregon Inlet.
Eggleston found that blue crab
harvests in the Pamlico and Albemarle
sounds are at or above sustainable limits
and should be capped or cut back to
protect the fishery's continued health and
productivity.
"During the past three years,
crabbers have harvested between 54 and
67 million pounds a year in our sounds,"
says Eggleston. "Based on our research,
which includes an analysis of multiple
sets of N.C. Division of Marine Fisheries
crab-harvest data dating back to 1 972,
we calculate the maximum sustainable
yield at between 48 and 60 million pounds."
As oyster, flounder and other
species become overfished, more fishers
are turning to blue crabs, Eggleston says.
"No one wants to deny anyone this right.
However, if blue crab harvests continue
to exceed sustainable levels, the long-term
outlook for the fishery may be a concern."
Blue crabs are North Carolina's top
commercial fishery species, worth about
$40.5 million in 1998, according to the
N.C. Division of Marine Fisheries.
About 800,000 crab pots are fished on
the sounds each year. The season tradition-
ally runs from March to November.
In 1994, the N.C. General Assembly
issued a moratorium that placed a
temporary cap on commercial crab
licenses through July 1999. Legislation
that extends the crab moratorium to
October 2000 passed the General
Assembly in June.
This year, the Division of Marine
Fisheries will come up with a new plan
for managing the number of fishers and
gear in the blue crab fishery, Eggleston says.
In May, the Marine Fisheries Com-
mission adopted several temporary rules
for crab harvest and created management
regions for the blue crab fishery.
"The Marine Fisheries Commis-
sion's regional advisory committees will
be developing effort-management options
for North Carolina's diverse crab fishery
prior to October 2000," says Nancy Fish,
spokesperson for the Division of Marine
Fisheries.
One factor critical to the health of blue
crab stock is the ratio of adult females,
called spawners, to recruits, or
juveniles less than
one year old.
'The
number of
recruits in a population
depends in large part on the number of
spawners," Eggleston says. "The more
spawners, the more recruits. At too-low
population densities, the overfished
population begins to lose its ability to
build itself backup."
Such a decline would affect the
blue crab's important role
as a predator,
help-
ing to
control the
abundance of clams,
worms and other soft-bottom prey that
live in the sand or mud.
In his research, Eggleston also
found that Oregon Inlet is a critical
ocean-to-estuary link through which
millions of post-larval crabs enter the
North Carolina sounds.
"We need to be careful about
possibly altering water exchange
through this vital link," he says. "Recent
proposals to build jetties outside the
inlet would be great for boating and
fishing, but the impact on crabs is
unclear. Jetties may actually enhance the
transport of crabs from offshore into the
sound or they may reduce transport or
have no effect at all. We need further
study before we build jetties."
To get the most up-to-date informa-
tion on Eggleston' s blue crab research,
visit the Web at http://www2.ncsu.edu/
eos/info/mea/mea469_info/bluecrab/. □
COASTWATCH 33
f's Up at Hatteras
mSl
North Carolina Sea Grant
_
From the Editor
Autumn Arrives
In North Carolina, the shift from summer l
to fall tends to be subtle. September and
October are still prime months for beach visits
before the first chill hits.
But there is a hint of change in this
autumn issue of Coastwatch. We are adding
Legal Tides to the list of topics that fill our
back pages.
Legal Tides is new to Coastwatch, but it
is not new to North Carolina Sea Grant. For
13 years, Walter Clark, our coastal law and
policy specialist, has edited the Legal Tides
newsletter. In its pages, Walter and guest
writers from around the state offered perspec-
tives on court decisions, legislation and
regulations that affect our coast.
Many law and policy issues — such as proposed estuarine
shoreline regulations or water-use zoning — have been topics
for Coastwatch articles. We are incorporating Legal Tides into
Coastwatch in order to reach a larger audience.
We have made other adjustments to be more cost-
effective. For example, we are using a lighter paper for our
magazine cover — but you can be sure the high-quality
content in Coastwatch will remain.
North Carolina Sea Grant publications continue to grab
top honors. Our publications received two Awards of Excel-
lence in the 1999 Awards for Publication Excellence (APEX)
from Communications Concepts Inc.
Coastal Water Quality Handbook was honored in the
instructional publication category. Sea Grant specialists
Barbara Doll and Lundie Spence wrote the handbook, which
was edited by Daun Daemon and Renee
Wolcott Shannon and designed by Kathy
McKee.
The Spring 1999 issue of Coastwatch
received an APEX award for magazine
writing. Coastwatch also received the
"People's Choice" award for best magazine
at Sea Grant Week 1999, a national meeting
held in Portland, Ore.
We continue efforts to widen our
Coastwatch audience. Each new reader gains
insight into our coast and the North Carolina
Sea Grant mission — and each new subscrip-
tion offsets our costs a little more.
A new brochure that introduces
Coastwatch to potential readers is available in many state
parks and visitors' centers along the coast. The magazine is
also available in a number of bookstores. Coastwatch has been
a hit among tourists and locals alike.
But our greatest opportunity to share the coast with others
comes from you, our readers, who pass the magazine on to
friends and family. New subscribers often first see the maga-
zine on a friend's coffee table. Others receive it as a gift.
As Renee, Ann and I begin our second year with Sea
Grant and Coastwatch, we look forward to maintaining the
standard of excellence that has been a Sea Grant tradition.
I invite you to sit back for an autumn trip to the North
Carolina coast. Catch a wave with surfers on the Outer Banks.
Uncover the mysteries of fall migration at the Wings Over Wa-
ter festival. And visit a flounder-fattening farm in Cedar Island.
Enjoy your trip. □
Katie Mosher, Managing Editor
Contributors
Writers:
Ann Green D Katie Mosher ° Julie Ann Powers D Renee Wolcott Shannon D Cynthia Henderson Vega
Photographers:
Michael Halminski D Herman Lankford D Chuck Liddy 0 Melissa McGaw
Katie Mosher a Renee Wolcott Shannon a Scott D. Taylor n Lindsay R. Whichard
Features
Coastal Tidings .
Wings Over Water
Finding Feathered Friends in Eastern North Carolina
Every autumn, flocks of migrating birds settle in North
Carolina's ponds and pocosins, making the eastern part of the
state a hot destination for bird-watchers and other naturalists.
These out-of-season tourists enjoy breathtaking wildlife while
they bolster the local economy. Join Renee Wolcott Shannon on
a three-day bird-watching, kayaking, bear-sighting exploration
as part of the annual Wings Over Water celebration 6
SurPs Up at Cape Hatteras: Big Waves Make Hot Surfing Spot
Why do surfers flock to the Outer Banks? And how has surfing
changed in North Carolina? Ann Green answers all your ques-
tions about this fast-growing sport and shows how surfers make
waves in environmental activism 14
"Dr. Dan" ... Estuarine Explorer
Dan Rittschof s all-encompassing curiosity has led him to study
everything from hermit crabs to flounder. Explore our state's
complex estuaries and the mysteries of chemical communication
with this fascinating Duke University researcher 18
People & Places: Getting to Know the Coast
An Education for Teachers
Teachers never stop learning, and COAST/Operation Pathfinder
is a great way for them to find out the latest on coastal processes,
environmental hazards and marine biology. See how the
North Carolina coast brings new skills and knowledge to the
classroom 23
Legal Tides: Who Owns the Beach?
North Carolina has a long tradition of letting the public use its
230 miles of beaches. Now some homeowners challenge public
beach access, saying the dry sand belongs to them. Take a look at
the history — and possible outcomes — of this controversial
issue 26
Sea Science: Fatter Flounder Down on the Farm
Fat flounder make more money. Join a North Carolina Sea Grant
researcher and a fish farmer who are fattening flounder to get
the best market prices. Are fat, farm-raised flounder the wave
of the future? 28
COASTWATCH 1
Coastwatch
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 12-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http:llwww2.ncsu.edulsea_grantlseagrant.html.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch. North Carolina Sea Grant,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
Nickens at the Belhaven Museum
Coastwatch Live:
An Evening with Eddie Nickens
If you enjoyed "The Hook," T.
Edward Nickens' account of life on Cape
Lookout, or "The Big Ditch," his story of a
three-day journey down the Intracoastal
Waterway, get out your calendar. On Nov.
16 at 7 p.m., Nickens will read from his
award-winning Coastwatch series for a
Friends of the Library event at NC State
University.
In his talk, "Cape, River, Inlet, Sound:
Where History Meets the Sea," Nickens
will revisit North Carolina's historic coastal
landmarks. In addition to "The Hook" and
"The Big Ditch," Nickens' stories for
Coastwatch spotlighted the controversial
history of Oregon Inlet, surf fishing at Cape
Hatteras, market hunting on Currituck
Sound and, most recendy, the history of the
Cape Fear River.
A High Point native now living in
Raleigh, Nickens has written about natural
history for 15 years. In 1998, he won five
national writing awards presented by the
Outdoor Writers Association of America,
including the "best of the best" award for
the year. Two of his Coastwatch articles
placed in the competition. Nickens is
currently at work on a book outlining the
history of wildlife in North Carolina.
Nickens' reading, which is free and
open to the public, will be held in the
second floor assembly room of the D.H.
Hill Library on the NC State campus.
For more information about the
reading or to join Friends of the Library,
call 919/515-2841; write to the Friends of
the Library, NCSU Libraries, Box 71 1 1,
Raleigh, NC 27695-7 1 1 1 ; or visit the Web
site at www.lib.ncsu.edu/libraries/
administration/foil. - R.W.S.
Front cover photo of birds
by Scott D. Taylor.
Table of contents photo of surfer
by Michael Halminski.
Printed on recycled paper. ©
Wit
In the Next Issue of Coastwatch
the year 2000 on the horizon, the next issue of Coastwatch will take a
look at both the past and the future of life and science along the coast. How
has life changed for commercial fishers and fishing villages over the centu-
ries? And glimpse the future of marine science as you join young researchers
from Manteo High School on a field expedition.
2 AUTUMN 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Ove
Increased Atmospheric Nitrogen
Parallels Harmful Algal Blooms
vex the last three decades, the
amount of atmospheric nitrogen polluting
North Carolina waters and other parts of
the North Atlantic Ocean Basin has
increased significantly and parallels
harmful algal blooms, according to a
new study.
North Carolina Sea Grant researchers
found that nitrogen in the air accounted for
46 to 57 percent of the total nitrogen newly
deposited in the nitrogen-sensitive North
Atlantic Ocean Basin. The increase can be
attributed to growing agricultural, urban
and industrial emissions of nitrogen oxides
and ammonia, and possibly organic
nitrogen.
'The study is significant because it
reconfirms that atmospheric nitrogen has
been found to be a regional and global
source of pollution," says Hans Paerl,
North Carolina Sea Grant research scientist
and Kenan professor of marine and
environmental sciences at the University
of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (UNC-
CH) Institute of Marine Sciences.
"We also found a strong spatial
linkage between water in areas with high
amounts of atmospheric nitrogen and in
places where there have been documented
increases in harmful algal blooms. This
is critical as we are only beginning to
understand the importance of links between
human-induced pollution of coastal oceans
and harmful algal bloom expansion."
Joume/s End
Photo by Michael Halminski
Autumn visitors to the Outer
Banks will once again see the beacon
of the historic Cape Hatteras light-
house. The massive lighthouse was
rolled 2,900 feet along a temporary rail
system, ending its joumeyjuly 9.
Although the beacon returned on
Labor Day weekend, visitors must wait
until Memorial Day 2000 to venture
inside. Workers continue to secure the
foundation at the new site.
David Whitall, a UNC-CH graduate
student, collaborated with Paerl on the
report, published in the journal Ambio.
When algal blooms decompose on an
ocean or river bottom, they use up oxygen
in the water. If waters become anoxic —
having no dissolved oxygen — then the
fish and shellfish can die. Certain toxic or
inedible bloom species can alter the food
webs on which all commercial and
sportfishing species rely.
In North Carolina, researchers found
that increased atmospheric nitrogen in
coastal waters reflects changing land use and
human activities. One of the most prominent
land-use changes has been the rapidly
growing swine and poultry industry in the
mid-Atlantic coastal plain, says Paerl. The
industry's growth has prompted an increase
in atmospheric nitrogen in the form of
ammonia from animal waste, storage and
land application.
"Ammonia is the most preferred source
of nitrogen for many algal species, including
harmful forms," says Paerl. "We are closely
examining the linkage between enhanced
ammonia deposition and the potential for
harmful algal bloom expansion.' ' — A.G.
New Fishing
Licenses Instituted
If you ever use a gill net or a
shrimp trawl to catch food for your
family, you need a new license from
the Division of Marine Fisheries
(DMF) to fish legally. Recreational
fishers who use commercial gear —
though they do not sell their catch —
are now required to buy a Recre-
ational Commercial Gear License
(RCGL) for $35. If you don't have
one yet, act quickly: the grace period
for the old license expired Aug. 1 .
The RCGL is just one part of a
DMF system that introduces 1 2 new
licenses this year, including the
Standard Commercial Fishing
License (SCFL) for most commercial
fishers, a shellfish license and
spotter plane license. The new
license system is a requirement of
the 1997 Fisheries Reform Act and
allows the division to assess the
impact of fishing activities more
accurately.
Under the new system, only
fishers holding a valid Endorsement-
to-Sell are eligible to purchase an
SCFL An additional 500 commer-
cial licenses may be distributed to
persons meeting established criteria,
including past involvement in or
reliance on commercial fishing.
Most licenses are available
from DMF regional offices. The
RCGL is also available from Wildlife
Resources Commission license
agents throughout the state for an
additional charge of $1 . For more
information about the new licenses,
visit the division's Web site at
www.ncfisherie5.net/license/index. html
or call Nancy Fish at 252/726-7021 .
- RW.S.
COASTWATCH 3
Celebrate
the Sounds
yak and canoe racers
and folks who simply love
North Carolina's sounds will
gather Nov. 6 - 7 for the
second annual Sound
Country Celebration in
Edenton.
The festival promotes
the natural and cultural
resources of the coastal plain.
Participants can enjoy races,
educational programs and
displays, local crafts, food
and music. Proceeds benefit
community projects.
"We did so well, even
with the rain last year, that
we are supporting the
building of a canoe and kayak
platform at the waterfront in
Edenton," says organizer
Peter Bogus.
The East Coast Champi-
onship Canoe and Kayak
Races will showcase the top
1 25 racers from New England
to Florida. For those who are
less competitive, there are
recreational races and a
challenge for business teams.
For a leisurely pace,
interpretive canoe outings
also will be offered. Visitors
can bring their own canoes
or borrow one for the nature
program.
For more information on
race registration, check the
Web at www.edenton.com and
follow the events link to the
Sound Country Celebration
page or call 800/775-0111
or 252/482-2282. - K.M.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Lighthouse's Rich History
Inspires New CD
Tor more than 1 00 years, the Cape
Hatteras lighthouse has stood strong as an
important North Carolina coastal landmark.
As waves began to crash at its spiral
base, the lighthouse inspired a fierce debate
on erosion-control efforts. This summer,
despite heavy opposition, the lighthouse was
moved about a half-mile inland.
The landmark's move and its rich history
inspired NC State University adjunct music
professor Bett Padgett to produce a new
compact disc: "Hatteras: If a Lighthouse
Could Speak."
"The folkish-style CD speaks of the
emotions felt by the local people toward
relocating the lighthouse," says Padgett,
who teaches guitar lessons at NC State. "It
also tells of the importance of saving the
lighthouse. I have traveled in Europe and
visited their castles and homes. Europeans
have worked hard to preserve their history
and culture. Americans also need to
preserve historic structures like the
lighthouse."
The CD, produced by Red Eye
Distributors, can be found at book and
record stores throughout North Carolina
or ordered on the Web at bettpadgett.com.
Half of the profits will be donated to the
Cape Hatteras National Seashore. - A.G.
Recycled Chickens
Make Safe, Effective Crab Bait
A chicken farmer's trash may soon be
a crabber's treasure. North Carolina Sea
Grant researchers report that a poultry-based
bait set with a heat-binding system is safe
and effective as an alternative bait for
harvesting blue crabs.
The fermented "poultry mortalities," or
dead chickens, may prove useful as an alter-
native bait for other aquatic species caught
by trap, including lobster, eel and sea bass.
'People have been using chicken parts
to catch crabs for many years," says North
Carolina Sea Grant researcher Peter Ferket,
who is associate professor of poultry science
at NC State University.
"By heat-treating the chicken, we have
eliminated salmonella, E-coli and other
bacteria. The chicken bait could be safer
than natural baits that may be contaminated
with harmful bacteria."
This study confirmed earlier Sea Grant
tests of the experimental crab bait, which
takes advantage of food-science technology.
Traditionally, crabbers have
used fish bycatch, river herring X"'j^£s
and menhaden for bait. In * V
North Carolina, some ^s>*r^
traditional bait sources are no
longer viable. Because of T^s^
improved technology and J? pT
state and federal regulatory efforts to reduce
catch that is undersized and unmarketable,
bycatch has declined. Also, the landings of
river herring declined 87 percent from 1985
to 1994, according to the N.C. Division of
Marine Fisheries.
"Because of competition for alternative
uses of menhaden such as fish meal
production, prices for menhaden have
increased 55 percent in the last three years,"
says Bob Hines, North Carolina Sea Grant
fisheries specialist.
Teena Middleton, who received her
PhD. from NC State in 1999, collaborated
with Hines and Ferket. Their findings also
show that no off-flavors are produced in
crabs harvested using the new bait.
The poultry-based bait may be cost-
effective for both crabbers and farmers.
"In North Carolina, 50,000 tons of
poultry mortality is disposed of every year,"
says Ferket. "We are trying to take a
material that has traditionally been an
environmental negative and use
it to produce a product that
P^i^O a benefits the poultry industry
^^r^zZ; and blue crab fishery.
\^Af However, additional research
rf*^SsL' is needed on the optimum
jj^^ durability of the bait." — A.G.
4
AUTUMN 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Columbia Theater:
Glimpses of the Past
Inside an
old movie
theater in
Columbia,
Hunter Jim
gives folks an
earful about the
abundance of
fish and wildlife
in Tyrrell
County.
Dressed
in a plaid shirt,
khaki pants
and an orange
hunting cap,
Hunter Jim nods
and smiles as he greets each visitor to the
Columbia Theater Cultural Resources
Center.
"So what brings you out this way,
stranger?" asks Hunter Jim. "Don't often
see people out in the woods this far. You
hunting, fishing or just enjoying the
scenery? Doesn't matter much, they're all
great here in Tyrrell County. There's
something special about this part of the
world — we got all the woods, water,
wetlands and wildlife you could want, so
it's a paradise if you like to get outside."
Although Hunter Jim seems human
as he talks, blinks and moves his eyes, he
is actually a fully animated robot donated
by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
With his colorful accent and sharp
memory about Tyrrell County traditions,
Hunter Jim is the featured attraction at the
resource center in downtown Columbia.
Two floors of the restored theater are
filled with donated artifacts that highlight
human uses of the Albemarle-Pamlico
region's resources. Opened in October
1998, the facility is operated by the
Partnership for the Sounds.
Helen Craddock, administrator of
the Columbia Theater, distinguishes
the facility from the North Carolina
Estuarium, also operated by the partner-
ship. "The estuarium focuses on ecosys-
tems, in contrast to the theater, which
Hunter Jim greets visitors
focuses on
the human
interaction
with the
environment,"
she says.
To
showcase
Tyrrell
County's
strong farming
tradition, a
variety of
relics — from
a 20-gallon
stone butter-
churner to
natural underwear — offer a glimpse into
the hard life of people who worked the
land. There is also a variety of kitchenware
used before World War II — from cast-
iron utensils to heavy cookware.
Wander upstairs to find artifacts from
the shipwreck of the Estelle Randall,
including glass bottles and a clock. The
ship sank and burned in 1910 while
docked in Columbia. For war buffs, there
is a small military display with a Korean
War infantry uniform and a Christmas
card from a soldier in World War U.
To recreate the atmosphere of an old
movie theater, the downstairs exhibits look
like movie sets with backdrops and
directors' chairs. In the forestry exhibit,
youngsters can practice sawing a plastic
log. The 'To Catch a Fish" set includes an
old shad-boat mast and herring dip net.
The farming exhibit features an old potato
grader used by countless generations to
sort potatoes.
"We raise a lot of Irish potatoes in
Tyrrell County," says Craddock. "It's a
rite of passage for children to work on a
potato farm."
Columbia Theater Cultural Re-
sources Center, 304 Main St., Columbia,
is open Tuesday through Saturday from
10 am. to 4 p.m. Admission is $2 for
adults, $1 for children 5-1 7. For more
information, call 252/766-0200. - A.G.
Corrosion Lurks
in Salt Spray
Long before you see the
ocean, you begin to taste the
hint of salt in the air. But
coastal property owners
should know of the corrosive
effect salt has on buildings.
"Salt spray is tossed into
the air by breaking waves,"
says Spencer Rogers, North
Carolina Sea Grant coastal
engineering specialist.
While erosion, storm
surges and wind damage may
get more attention, corrosion
can wage a subtle but expen-
sive war on metal connectors.
Corrosion is greatest on first-
row houses, but some effects
are found a mile away.
"Corrosion engineering is
often not intuitive," Rogers
says. Corrosion-resistant sheet
metals may be selected during
construction at limited
additional cost. Protective
coatings can be added to
existing metal connectors.
Need specific informa-
tion? Rogers worked with the
Federal Emergency Manage-
ment Agency to develop a
technical bulletin offering tips
to safeguard coastal homes.
For a free copy of
Corrosion Protection for Metal
Connectors in Coastal Areas,
FEMA TB-8-96, call Rogers
at 91 0/256-2083. Copies are
also available on the Web at
www.fema.gov/MIT.techbul.htm.
The FEMA hotline is 800/480-
2520. -K.M.
COASTWATCH
5
Scon D. Taylor
COASTWATCH 7
I'M
Bird-watchers scan the skies at Wings Over Water.
KAYAKING
across Milltail Creek in an open-topped
yellow kayak, dripping water all over my
jeans and trying to keep my camera dry. I
am not a bird-watcher. I can identify
cardinals and blue jays, sparrows and
crows, robins and mourning doves — the
avian residents of my suburban neighbor-
hood — and that's about it. Here at the
Wings Over Water bird-watching festival,
I'm definitely in a minority.
Other brightly colored plastic vessels
dot the surface of the pond. I'm surrounded
by people in winter coats with binoculars
strapped around their necks. They're here
to see wood ducks, pileated woodpeckers
and great blue herons. I'm here to enjoy the
clear, cold autumn weather, to see a few
birds for myself, and perhaps to figure out
what has drawn my companions from
across the country.
This morning at the opening break-
fast, keynote speaker Ken Kaufman
described his lifelong love affair with birds,
a fascination that began when he was 6 years
old. After he graduated from college, he
hitchhiked for several years, looking for birds
all over North America. Birds seem so free,
he says, and people have always been
attracted to them for that reason. Yet they
aren't as free as they appear — even as they
cross borders and continents with ease, they
follow strict schedules and predictable routes.
8 AUTUMN 1999
Serious bird-watchers arrive
armed with information about the
birds they're likely to find. Many of
them can identify more than 200
birds by sight. They're here for the
love of the chase, building "life lists"
that keep track of all the species
they've ever seen.
The Outer Banks are a hot spot
of feathered activity in early winter,
when the birds are migrating, and
Wings Over Water banks on that fact.
business. Jack Thigpen, North
Carolina Sea Grant's coastal
recreation and tourism specialist,
says estimates show that birders
pump billions of dollars into the
national economy. Local communi-
ties also benefit from bird-watching
festivals, and Wings Over Water is
the result of a partnership of sponsors
who want to bring responsible,
sustainable development to coastal
North Carolina.
Mike Bryant, manager of the
Alligator River and Pea Island
National Wildlife Refuges, hatched
the idea of a festival to celebrate the
wetland-dependent birds that flock to the
coastal plain every fall. He brought the idea
from Texas, where ecotourism events —
including a binding festival — brought more
than $ 1 3 million a year to the lower Rio
Grande valley. Bryant saw a great opportu-
nity for a similar festival in eastern North
Carolina.
Coastal wildlife refuges are rich in
natural resources, drawing tourists even in
the off-season, Bryant says. Pea Island, in
particular, is a birder's paradise. Bryant saw
a binding festival as a way to emphasize
activities people enjoy at refuges —
hunting, fishing, wildlife-spotting and
photography — while also injecting money
into the local economy.
"This is a chance to bring together
community folks and to provide tourism
that is compatible with wildlife," he says.
"It sends a good message about the
resources we manage. It's a win-win
situation."
Many species of birds overwinter
along the Outer Banks, in the sounds and
pocosins, and on Lake Mattamuskeet,
making a November festival a logical
choice. The partners sponsoring Wings
Over Water — including the U.S. Fish and
Wildlife Service, the National Park Service,
the Outer Banks Chamber of Commerce,
the Coastal Wildlife Refuge Society and the
Dare County Tourist Bureau — are eager to
bring people to the area at a time when
tourism traditionally tapers off for the year.
And birders seem happy to trade crowds
and sun for quiet, deserted beaches, cold
air and the chance to glimpse a rare
creature.
Attendees come from as far away as
Canada, California, Texas and Florida in
search of their feathered friends. "Distance
is no object," Bryant says. So local
businesses and ecotourism vendors benefit
from an unseasonable influx of out-of-
state money. Tourists see what a beautiful
place North Carolina's coast can be, even
in late fall.
For the second annual festival, North
Carolina Sea Grant has teamed up with
the sponsors of Wings Over Water to find
out just how much money the birders
bring to area businesses. Thigpen, a
sociologist, has designed a survey for the
participants to fill out, providing valuable
information about their spending patterns,
interests, and impact on the local economy.
The resulting information will be used to
market and plan later events.
For now, Wings Over Water works
hard to provide something for everyone.
The schedule includes a guided tour
through a salt marsh, a hike through
Buxton Woods Coastal Reserve and a
chance to howl at red wolves, in addition
Continue
Black skimmers
Brown pelicans
Searching for pelagic birds
COASTWATCH
Keith Watson updates the bird list.
to innumerable bird-watching opportuni-
ties. Nature-lovers of all kinds can inspect
the scenery from cars and buses, pontoon
boats, the Hatteras-Ocracoke ferry and
canoes, as well as on foot.
My paddling adventure in the
Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge
is one of the "general natural history trips,"
and it's my first time in a kayak. As we
leave the open water and the last colorful
leaves behind, I'm still searching for birds.
Though there are wood-duck nesting
boxes in the trees along the shore, they are
empty — our guide says the ducks actually
prefer to nest in natural cavities in the tree
trunks. A few members of my group spy a
woodpecker through their binoculars, but I
can't see it. Finally, as I blunder down a
root-choked ditch, chickadees flit in the
branches overhead.
My hands are numb with cold and my
jeans are stiff with water by the time I
clamber from the kayak at journey's end.
Seated in my unfamiliar craft, I've sailed
beneath towering bald cypress trees and
wended my way through a maze of marsh-
grass channels. Still, I'm only too ready to
climb back into my car for the long drive to
Kitty Hawk, where I'm staying with
friends.
I'm happy to be able to throw my wet
clothes in a dryer and to warm my cold
bones with a home-cooked meal. But most
of the festival's 250 other participants are
staying at local hotels, eating at area
restaurants and buying gifts at nearby
shops.
Thigpen's survey results will show
that more than 90 percent of these
participants are from outside the coastal
A white ibis stalks its lunch.
region, and that they contribute more than
$90,000 to the local economy. Most of
their spending is for food and lodging, but
birders also drop significant sums on
registration fees and birding equipment.
Fortunately for Wings Over Water,
coastal North Carolina meets many of the
criteria birders seek in their field trips,
according to the survey results. Their
number-one priority is seeing a wide
variety of birds, but other high-ranking
items include clean air, crime-free
communities and scenic places to view
wildlife.
MY,
HOSTS
have a clock that chimes every hour with
the song of a different bird. By 6 a.m.
Saturday, when the house wren warbles its
tune, I'm already on the road to Lake
Mattamuskeet for my next field trip.
The sun rises as I drive, and my
breath smokes in the unheated car. Heavy
frost bristles on the roadside, where crisp
white-edged grass slopes down to meet
black canals. Fog rises from the water. By
8 a.m., when the tour starts, Lake
Mattamuskeet glints like metal in the sun.
"We winter about 1 8 species of
waterfowl on the lake and adjacent
freshwater marshes," says John Stanton,
wildlife biologist at Mattamuskeet National
Wildlife Refuge. Altogether, the lake is a
temporary home for 150,000 waterfowl.
"We have about 30,000 tundra swans and
10-15,000 geese," Stanton says. In winter,
"waterfowl, bald eagles and hawks are
really what show themselves in a big way."
A black bear munches wheat.
And this trip does not disap-
point. From the lakeshore, I can see
hundreds of snow-white swans.
Birders spot a great homed owl, a
rare Eurasian wigeon and a few
Ross's geese. "That's a smaller
version of the snow goose," says
Stanton.
Surprises include a blue-headed
vireo, hermit thrush, and pine and
palm warblers — small songbirds
that "should have been long gone to
Central and South America," Stanton
says. By far the biggest surprise is a
black bear.
The tour leapfrogs from an
observation deck overlooking the
marsh to the refuge's headquarters
beside historic Mattamuskeet Lodge.
In the tall reeds beside the lodge,
invisible songbirds make beautiful
music. When I ask Stanton what is
singing, he says they are marsh
wrens: "They sing a really nice song
but you hardly ever see them."
I chase a belted kingfisher along
one of the lake's drainage ditches —
its wings flash blue as it stays one
step ahead of me, chattering. At Lake
Landing, where birders walk the
dikes at the east end of the lake, I
spot a huge, crested gray bird on a
snag over the water, its head hunched
to its breast. "A black-crowned night
heron," Stanton says. I'm beginning
to enjoy this feathery scavenger hunt.
I dawdle after the tour is over,
and join a small group exploring
the lodge, which was originally a
pumping station to drain the lake and
10 AUTUMN 1999
expose fertile farmland. New Holland, the
town that once flourished on the dry lake
bed, is now gone — Mattamuskeet Lodge
is all that remains. From its observation
tower, once the smokestack for the
pumping station, I can see huge bass
swimming in the canal far below.
As I drive back along the refuge's
entrance road, I stop to snap pictures of
long-legged wading birds stalking through
American avocets take flight.
the marsh. My camera's zoom lens is no
match for a good pair of binoculars, but I
catch clear glimpses of ducks, turtles
sunning on a log, some long-necked white
birds like cranes or egrets, and a mysteri-
ous dark bird with a sharp bill.
Back at the Wings Over Water
headquarters at Roanoke Island Festival
Park, birders check a series of boards to
see which birds have been spotted. Keith
Watson, natural resource management
specialist for the National Park Service's
Cape Hatteras Group, keeps the master list
up-to-date through cellular phone contact
with group leaders.
A father and son from Oak Hill, Va.,
say they want to see the Eurasian wigeon,
clay-colored sparrow and black-backed
gull.
"What's an oldsquaw?" I ask,
intrigued by the picturesque name. "It's a
duck," says the father.
But some of the birds listed are more
unusual than their names suggest. "We've
only seen the rough-legged hawk on a few
occasions," says Watson. "Maybe once a
year or so. When they're here, you
certainly get a lot of people going to look
at them." The rufous hummingbird, which
birders have also spotted this weekend, is a
western species that doesn't breed in the
east. "But the hummingbirds winter each
year in Buxton," Watson says.
I ask him about my mystery bird in
the Mattamuskeet marshes, and he invites
me to look it up in one of the many bird
encyclopedias offered for sale. Nothing
looks quite right. Finally I settle on a
brown wading bird with white flecks on
its neck and an unsteady, bobbing gait
"A limpkin?" Watson, a soft-spoken
man, is unusually excited. "You'd better
be absolutely positive about that."
I experience a moment of mingled
euphoria and panic as he tells me that a
limpkin sighting will send people stamped-
ing to their cars. Apparendy birders will
drive for hours at the chance of glimpsing a
Continued
COASTWATCH 1 1
A snowy egret watches white ibis feeding at North Pond on Pea Island.
rare bird, and my dubious limpkin is much
more likely in South America or western
Florida than in the marshes of Lake
Mattamuskeet.
Of course, I can't be sure of what I've
seen. After further questioning, Watson
convinces me I've seen a juvenile great
blue heron.
Still, for one brief moment I've tasted
the thrill of bird-watching: the search for
something wild and fleeting, the satisfac-
tion in discovering something new. With
the bird book open in my hands, I know
what a limpkin sounds like, what it eats
and how it flies. For a few seconds, I feel
like a real expert.
Outside, the Wings Over Water
Festival is in full swing. While booths
inside the headquarters are open every day,
selling T-shirts and posters, binoculars and
books, the festival is a one-day celebration
to bring the birders together with the local
community. There are exhibits and games,
a photography contest, kayaking lessons
and carnival food. Kids can make kites, get
their faces painted or build their own
birdfeeders.
Gwen White, Wings Over Water's
executive director, is especially proud of
the festival and of the way Wings Over
Water has grown. "I'm proud of the
community for the way it's pulled around
and supported the event," she says. In
1999, she promises, the Saturday gathering
will be "even more of a family festival —
we'll have music and lots of environmental
12 AUTUMN 1999
activities for children. We're working
with Scouting so that Scouts will be
able to fulfill some badge require-
ments."
Overall, White says, the
festival's organizers are working hard
to make Wings Over Water more
inclusive, an event that supports
binding as well as other naturalist
activities. "Wings Over Water has
always been called 'A Celebration of
Wildlife and Wildlands in Eastern
North Carolina,'" White says. "We're
reaching out to tap into all kinds of
environmental activities."
I get to sleep in
until the bird clock chirps 7: a robin,
one of the few birds I knew before
coming to Wings Over Water.
My final field trip is a tramp
through Nags Head Woods, a wildlife
preserve owned by The Nature
Conservancy. I'm looking forward to
exploring the "globally rare maritime
forest, towering dunes and dark
swamps" promised in the schedule.
And my last trip proves to be a
perfect close to a wonderful weekend.
Jeff DeBlieu, whose wife, Jan,
wrote Hatteras Journal and Wind, is the
Nags Head Woods preserve director and
our hike leader. He's also a talented
storyteller who makes the natural history
of the preserve come alive.
For three hours, we follow winding
trails uphill and down, marveling at the
beauty of the woods and wetlands. Oaks,
hickories and beeches push from the sandy
soil, tangled with poison ivy and trumpet
vine. Swamps lie between ancient sand
ridges, home to the stumps of long-dead
trees.
We pay respects to the preserve's
former residents, who lie in a hollow
beneath crumbling gravestones and
bleached white conch shells. Beneath the
roots of the preserve's oldest tree, a 500-
year-old live oak, I find the skulls of nutria,
with their orange, beaver-like teeth. And
we search without success for the pileated
woodpecker we can hear calling in the
trees.
The pileated is the largest woodpecker
in North America. "In Florida, they call it
the 'Oh-my-God bird,'" says Robin
Wallace, an avid birder and fish biologist.
Huge size notwithstanding, we never spot
the woodpecker — though we do see
wood ducks and phoebes.
In a stunning conclusion to our tour,
DeBlieu guides us up the steep slope of
Run Hill, a towering sand dune that has
been moving slowly to the southwest for
more than a century. It swallows the live
trees in its path and leaves behind only
dead snags. From the top, we can look out
over estuarine marshes and Roanoke
Sound to the dark shoreline of Manteo.
I leave Nags Head Woods with a silent
promise to return. As I climb the span of
the long bridge from Manteo to the
mainland, three pelicans fly low over the
summit. It's a kind of benediction, and a
fitting end to a magical three days. For a
moment, suspended between the sound
and the sky, I feel as free as they seem. □
Wings Over Water 1999 is Nov.
5-7. World-renowned ornithologist
Jerome Jackson will be the keynote
speaker. Saturday's festival will be held
at Manteo Middle School. Registration
is $45; $35 before Oct. 1. Field trips
range from $10 to $75; workshops are
$10 and nightly programs are free.
Participating educators may receive
credit toward North Carolina's
environmental education certification.
For a schedule of events and registra-
tion form, contact the Alligator River
National Wildlife Refuge at 252/473-
1131 ext. 19, or check the Web at
www.northeast-nc.com/wings.
Flock of pelicans
Great blue heron and yellow-bellied sliders
Birding on Run Hill
COASTWATCH
13
A,
Ls veteran surfer Bob Sykes
surveys the pounding waves in the Atlantic
Ocean at Avon, he compares the surf to a
washing machine.
"It's disorganized and has a lot of
current," says Sykes. "It's more work than
fun. The ideal waves are head-high and
glassy, with the wind blowing over land."
Despite the choppy conditions, Sykes
and other die-hard surfers are competing in
the Outer Banks/Eastern Surfing Association
(ESA) contest. About 1 10 surfers from age 6
to 55 participate in the all-day
competition.
As the horn blows, Sykes
and other surfers paddle out on
their long boards to where the
waves break. Dressed in wetsuits
and colorful shirts, they disappear
in the brutal surf until they find a
wave to ride.
When the surfers find a good
wave, they stay up on their boards
for only a few seconds before
disappearing again into the soapy,
brutal surf. The contestants look
like break-dancers on the ocean as
they leap on and off their boards.
When surfing conditions are
good, surfers from all over the
country bring their boards to the
beaches along the Outer Banks,
which have developed a reputation for some
of the best waves on the East Coast.
What makes the Outer Banks a good
surfing spot?
"If you want big surf, you go to Cape
Hatteras on the Outer Banks," says Stan
Riggs, professor of marine geology at East
Carolina University (ECU) and a former
North Carolina Sea Grant researcher. "The
continental shelf at the Cape is very steep and
narrow, allowing the full brunt of the Atlantic
Ocean's waves to reach the shoreline.
"Northward into Virginia and New
Jersey and southward into South Carolina
and Georgia, the continental shelf becomes
increasingly wider and shallower, causing the
ocean waves to expend their energy dragging
across the shelf rather than on the beach."
Other good surfing spots include Avon,
Rodanthe and Oregon Inlet to the north of
Cape Hatteras and Frisco, Cape Lookout
National Seashore and Wrightsville Beach
to the south.
Each Sunday, Bill Hume, co-director of
the ESA's Outer Banks District, joins fellow
surfers on the northern side of Oregon Inlet.
"There are a lot of sandbars here and
consistent surf," he says.
Because of the Outer Banks' wave-
dominated coastline, some avid surfers have
relocated to the area.
Contestants run to start their heat.
"Surfing is better here," says Barbara
Corey, a veteran surfer. "That's why I
moved here from New Jersey. I had been
coming to the Outer Banks since I was a
teen-ager."
As surfing has grown in popularity, the
ESA's Outer Banks membership has
swelled from 185 in 1995 to more than 400
this year. It has also become more family-
oriented.
"When I started in the association,
parents used to drop their kids off at the
beach and leave them for the day," says Julie
Hume, who is co-director along with her
husband. "Now the parents stay."
Families arrive at the competition with
their children, dogs, coolers and beach
chairs. Many of them make it a daylong
activity.
The Barnes family has three genera-
tions of surfers. Betty Barnes, a 70-year-old
artist, rides the waves, as do her two sons,
John and Rex Barnes, and Rex's two
daughters.
"I started surfing when I was 35," says
Betty Barnes. "My kids were teens, and I
had to watch them on the waves."
She taught Rex how to surf on a long
plank board.
"I knew on the first day, I would do it
the rest of my life," says Rex. "It was
wonderful — the thrill of riding the
waves. You have to take a wave
and master it. You have to make it
work for you."
Since paddling on her first
board at Virginia Beach, Betty
Barnes has seen many changes in
surfing. "When I first started, we
didn't think of it as a sport," she
says. "Now it is an organized sport.
The equipment has also improved.
In the early days, we had to make
our own boards."
Now surfers can buy different
styles of boards, including long
boards and short boards used for
maneuvers.
As the sport has grown,
participation among young girls
has also increased. Recently, the
ESA's Outer Banks District started a
Wahines Club for female surfers of all ages.
"More girls are into the sport because
they are health conscious," says Rex Barnes.
"If you surf a lot, every muscle stays trim.
It is a beautiful sport."
The increase in older surfers has given
these enthusiasts more political and
economic clout.
"As baby boomers get into their 50s,
you see more older people surfing," says
Mike Orbach, a long-time surfer and director
of Duke University Marine Lab. "It has also
become part of the political economy. On
the North Carolina beaches, you see three
times more surf shops as a decade ago.
Surfing has become a style of clothes and
line of auxiliary products."
Continued
COASTWATCH 15
Surfing is an ancient beach
activity that was practiced by
Hawaiians before becoming
commonplace in California in the
1930s. However, it didn't become
a popular leisure activity in North
Carolina until the 1960s, when the
Southern California subculture
spread to the state through surf
movies, clothes and music.
Early on, surfers developed a
reputation as beach bums with
irregular work habits. In recent
years, the image of the surfer has
changed.
"Surfers are misinterpreted
because they have a laid-back
lifestyle," says Missy McMillan,
former chair of the Surfrider
Foundation's Outer Banks
Chapter. "There are lawyers,
judges and cab drivers who surf."
Rex Barnes, a contractor,
exemplifies the casual lifestyle of
a surfer. He lives in a cedar house
built on stilts. His living room is
decorated with surfboards, surfing
photos and bongo drums. He trots
around the globe to surf — from
Hawaii to Costa Rica.
"I love the sport because it
doesn't cost anything," he says.
"You get as many waves as you
want for free."
Surfers also are good
Samaritans.
"I have seen surfers rescue
people who are caught in the rip
tides near the Cape Hatteras
lighthouse," says Ray Gray, a
surfer and principal of Cape
Hatteras Elementary School. "A
couple of years ago, another guy
and I saved two girls who were
drowning near the lighthouse."
Despite the increased interest in surfing
on the East Coast, it is still more accepted
on the West Coast, says Orbach. "In North
Carolina, the dominant water-related
activity is fishing."
Surfers also have to follow more
regulations on the East Coast than on the
West Coast.
Since piers are publicly owned on the
Young "gremmies" check out some new shapes.
Surfers pass heat signal flags and contestant jersey racks.
West Coast, surfers aren't restricted from
going under piers, says North Carolina Sea
Grant researcher Jeff Johnson, an ECU
sociologist who has traveled the world to
surf. "Piers make good surfing spots
because of sandbars and better waves," he
says. "In contrast, most piers on the East
Coast are privately owned."
In North Carolina, the legislature has
given municipalities the right to
regulate surfing as long as the
rules don't inhibit a citizen's
constitutional rights, says Walter
Clark, North Carolina Sea Grant
coastal law and policy specialist.
"The state has jurisdiction
and ownership of ocean waters
and land under the ocean from the
mean high tide to three miles out,"
says Clark. "However, the state
recognizes that local governments
have an interest in certain
activities that occur in state waters
which are adjacent to their
jurisdiction."
Most coastal municipalities
have adopted surfing regulations.
At Atlantic Beach, surfers have to
stay 200 feet away from the
fishing piers and can't surf in
heavily populated areas. In Nags
Head and Kitty Hawk, surfing is
prohibited within 300 yards of a
fishing pier. Wrightsville Beach
requires surfers to stay 500 feet
away from commercial fishing
piers and from the jetty at
Masonboro Inlet.
Most townships also require
surfers to have leashes on their
boards. "If you have a leash on
your board, your board won't get
away from you when you fall off
and possibly hit someone," says
Julie Hume.
Except for the regulations
around fishing piers, most surfers
have free access to North
Carolina's waters.
"Dare County does not have
any rules banning surfing at
certain times," says Julie Hume.
"Some places on the East Coast
don't allow surfing at certain times
of day and only in designated areas. We are
fortunate we can surf at any time of day or
any place on the Outer Banks."
Because of surfers' affinity for oceans
and beaches, some have become advocates
for coastal issues. One of the most active
grassroots organizations is Surfrider
Foundation, which has 25,000 members,
42 chapters in the United States —
16 AUTUMN 1999
including one on the Outer Banks
and one in Wilmington — and
four international affiliates.
"I am a water enthusiast and
believe in the foundation's
mission statement: 'clean water,
clean beach and access to beach,'"
says McMillan. "We do this
through conservation activism,
research and education."
At Rodanthe, members
worked with public officials to
increase public parking near a
private pier, thus offering greater
beach access.
"The only access for the
public is at the private pier," says
McMillan. "The pier owner
wanted his pier used for fishing
and not surfing. Our chapter tried
to smooth matters over with the
pier management and worked
with Dare County to donate land
and build a parking lot." The
group also received a state grant.
The organization also
supported the relocation of the
Cape Hatteras lighthouse.
"Nationally, Surfrider is against
hardened structures like jetties and
sea walls," says Joan Van
Newenhizen, co-chair of the
group. "We believe nature should
take its course."
Occasionally, the ESA Outer
Banks District advocates for
surfers' rights. When the
Currituck County Board of
Commissioners wanted to ban
surfers in the water during red-
flag days, the ESA convinced
them to allow surfing during
turbulent weather.
"Experienced surfers know
when not to go into the water,"
says Julie Hume.
The Surfrider Foundation also is
environmentally active, encouraging good
stewardship of coastal resources.
As keepers of the coast, the group
educates young people about preserving the
beach. Each year, they sponsor a "Respect
the Beach" poster contest for middle and
high school students. Last year, they
Contestants check the scoreboard.
Two surfers anticipate their 3A men's heat.
sponsored a half-day "Respect the Beach"
camp for youngsters between ages 5 and 9.
The group also gives an Outer Banks
Surfrider Scholarship to a high school
student.
The group conducts research when
needed. After a Halloween storm in 1992
flooded the bypass in Kitty Hawk, the town
proposed an outfall pipe for storm runoff.
The Surfrider Foundation
countered with an alternative plan.
"We had concern about the
petroleum runoff." says
McMillan. "One alternative that
we proposed was putting a gate
valve on the pipe. When we have
a big storm, the valve is opened."
The Outer Banks Surfrider
Foundation also initiated the first
Adopt- A-Beach program in 1993
in Dare County, covering over 20
miles of public beach. The
program is modeled after the
Adopt-A-Highway Program.
"It has been a very successful
endeavor and involves various
segments of the community
working together to keep our
beaches clean and beautiful,"
says Van Newenhizen.
Each September, the
organization helps coordinate
Dare County's Big Sweep, part of
a statewide waterways cleanup.
For the last three years, the
chapter has provided trash bags
across the state for Big Sweep.
Other surfers continue the
cleanup year-round. Once a
month, ESA members clean up a
beach on Oregon Street in Kill
Devil Hills.
The Outer Banks Surfrider
chapter was formed in 1991.
"Our main impetus was stopping
offshore oil drilling by Mobil
Oil," says McMillan.
Since then, the chapter has
been involved in a number of
coastal issues.
After a campaign by the
group to raise awareness of poor
water quality, Dare County began
a water-testing program.
"Over the last 50 years, the surfing
culture has evolved from sport to business
to environmental action," says Orbach.
"The Hawaiians use the concept of a
'waterman' to mean someone who surfs,
sails, fishes, and is generally aware and a
knowledgeable user of the ocean and its
resources. That is what many of today's
surfers strive for." □
COASTWATCH 17
dr. Dan
By Renee Wolcott Shannon • Photos by Scott
T
I he estuary is like a giant organism,"
says Dan Rittschof. "You find crabs in its
armpit. It smells different in different
places."
Colleagues and students at Duke
University Marine Laboratory know to
expect such offbeat and provocative
comments from Rittschof, a zoology
professor who has taught at the lab since
1982. Fellow researchers call him "a
creative scientist" and "a guy with ideas
going off like popcorn." Students call him
"Dr. Dan," praise his teaching and leave
friendly messages taped to his office door.
In person, Rittschof s energy is
palpable. He is a compact, wiry man with
permanently tanned skin and an unruly
beard. He walks fast, laughs often, shows
off his research projects with enthusiasm
and a flair for drama. "I can make crabs
puke and teach you how to catch flounder
with your bare hands," he boasts, and he's
not kidding.
His research focuses on the biochem-
istry and physiology of animal behavior.
"I'm curious about what makes animals do
things," he says. In the past, he's asked
how hermit crabs locate new shells, why
fish prefer certain foods, and how barnacle
larvae know where to settle — and he's
found answers in bio-active molecules and
chemical sensory systems. Given the right
mix of molecules, he can make a fish eat
gravel.
Several years ago, North Carolina Sea
Grant funded a project in which Rittschof
collaborated with fellow Duke scientist
Celia Bonaventura to develop a nutritious,
palatable food for larval fish. The lack of
such a food has traditionally posed a
problem for aquaculturists.
Even adult fish do not select and
"taste" food the way we do, with our
tongues. Instead, fish have epibranchial
organs that sense the chemical makeup of
food. "A fish sucks something into its
mouth and stuffs it into the epibranchial
organ," says Rittschof. "If it tastes good,
the fish swallows it. If it doesn't, it spits it
out." Preferred foods share certain
chemical traits — complex combinations
of molecules that fish find "tasty."
Fish food used in aquaculture is often
based on cereal, which lacks the flavor
molecules that fish prefer. "Cereal doesn't
taste like a hamburger," Rittschof says.
"Vegetarians know that." The researchers'
first hurdle was to find a flavoring that
adult fish preferred — and they found that
soup stock was a favorite with a wide
range of fish, including salmon, trout,
flounder and bass.
The second hurdle was to convince
larval fish to eat a processed food. Fish are
visual predators who expect their food to
move, and baby fish usually eat micro-
scopic creatures like rotifers or brine
shrimp. Even adult fish must be trained to
accept fish pellets as food, and no one was
sure that baby fish could learn to recognize
motionless fish flakes as something edible.
In Rittschof and Bonaventura' s
experiment, they fed baby flounder
through pipettes — first with brine shrimp
and later with manufactured liposomes full
of the nutrients they needed. The lipids in
the liposomes' walls prevented the food
from dissolving in water. And the
researchers found that the larval fish would
eat the processed food.
"Baby flounder are very smart,"
Rittschof says. "They'll sit at the end of the
pipette and wait for food." He remembers
this more than anything else about the
experiment, though his findings led to the
large-scale production of flavored fish food
and the development of chemically
attractive fishing lures.
D. Taylor
His appreciation for the miniscule
flounder, and for the way they adapt to
their environment, reflects his boundless
curiosity about animals, their habitats and
the surprises they offer. This curiosity
makes him a perfect match for Duke
Marine Lab, which is situated in Beaufort
amid estuaries and barrier islands and
which celebrates the importance of a sense
of place.
"Dan embodies one of the primary
principles of the lab, which is that it is a
field station," says Mike Orbach, director
of the marine lab. "People can get out and
get dirty, literally, and see nature in all its
cycles." Orbach says Rittschof is one of the
most active faculty members, as far as
getting students involved with field
research. "He's a denizen of Carteret
County waters — he knows where
everything is all the time."
One reason for this knowledge is that
Rittschof spends day and night at the
marine lab, exposing students to the natural
world that surrounds Pivers Island. He
leads countless field trips. He keeps his
laboratory and office open for student
projects, and students have used his printer
to spool off reams of research papers.
Rittschof serves as mentor and guide
for many undergraduates' independent
study projects. "I don't recognize disciplin-
ary boundaries," he says. "I'll follow a
problem across any line. ... I've worked on
almost all the common animals around
here."
Continued
at right: duke researcher
dan Rittschof proudly displays
one of the tagged flounder
he tracks in the esturay.
18 AUTUMN 1999
RlTTSCH 0 F IS FAMOUS FOR LEADING FIELD TRIPS INTO THE ESTUARIES AND MARSHES NEAR DUKE MARINE LAD.
His students' research focuses on
everything from fish to invertebrates.
Previous proteges have studied hormonal
control in fiddler crabs and the aerosol
filtering apparatus in mole crabs. Rittschof
will follow his curiosity, and his students,
anywhere. "He lives what he teaches," says
Orbach.
And what Rittschof teaches is the
organic complexity of nature, as revealed
in a set of chemical systems that have
evolved to shape animal behavior. When
he says an estuary is like an organism, he is
serious: the estuarine habitat around Pivers
Island is his biggest, most complicated
research animal yet.
From his third-floor office, Rittschof
can look across a narrow channel and see
one particular estuary — "his" estuary —
a square kilometer of sand, mudflats and
shallow water on Carrot Island. For the last
17 years, he has been getting intimately
aquainted with his estuary, fascinated by
the vital interconnectedness of its parts.
Terns and killdeer sweep across the
embayment, island horses wade through it,
flounder skim along its bottom. Fresh
water seeps in from a spring on the eastern
shore. On very high tides, ocean water
spills across the dunes to flood the bay with
salt. Every inch of the estuary offers new
research possibilities.
"All the male blue crabs sit in pits in
one tiny part," Rittschof says. "Are they
there because of physics or does it smell
good to them?" Though the bottom of the
estuary is crowded with thousands of tiny
snails, some patches are completely bare.
Why?
For Rittschof and his students, the
estuary is an open-air laboratory that
provokes an endless stream of questions.
He leads nighttime canoe trips there,
catches its flounder by hand, tracks its
snails and sediments, measures its salinity.
With Jonathan Kool, a graduate student, he
is mapping the estuary in 10-meter
increments and digitizing all its flora and
fauna, its sediments and waters, using the
Geographic Information System (GIS).
'1 want to know how everything
works in this soft-bottom environment," he
says. "I'm doing this because I'm curious
about it and I like it. I want to know how
the world is put together." Rittschof hopes
to make a long-term database of all the
activity in the estuary to document and
publicize the animals' interactions with
each other and with the environment.
The estuary project is merely the latest
and most ambitious in a line of research
projects that stretch back to Rittschof s
childhood. He has made a career of asking
"why." As a boy, he spent summers in
northern Michigan with his family. 'When
I wasn't picking cherries for money, I was
catching things," he says. "Usually I was
fishing. I was interested in anything that
moved." He was especially intrigued by
the creatures that crept and slithered and
flew at night. Nightcrawlers were a favorite
catch.
20 AUTUMN 1999
RITTSCHDF EXAMINES AN ANTI FOULING EXPERIMENT WITH A STUDENT.
"And then I caught things for my
dissertation," he says. "Frogs." Though his
favorite high-school subject was chemistry,
he found himself drawn to ecology at the
University of Michigan. His college studies
saw the beginning of his exploration of the
interrelationships between animals and
their environment, and for his doctoral
dissertation, he studied the chemical
ecology of hibernating freshwater frogs.
Then came a turning point. Just after
receiving his Ph.D. in 1975, Rittschof saw
the ocean for the first time, on a trip to the
Florida Keys. A child of the Southwest and
Great Lakes regions — he was bom in
Arizona in 1946 — Rittschof had never
seen the marine environment face-to-face.
And now he was sure of one thing: he
wanted to study chemical ecology in
marine systems.
After post-doctoral work in biochem-
istry at the University of California at
Riverside, Rittschof got his first chance to
tackle a real-life problem. One of his
Michigan professors had questioned the
mechanisms by which hermit crabs in the
Gulf of Mexico locate new snail shells to
live in. Hermit crabs have no hard covering
of their own, and as they grow, must
constantly find larger snail shells to inhabit.
How do they find empty shells of the
correct size?
Rittschof believed that the answer lay
in the crabs' ability to detect certain
chemicals that were released when the
snails died. "Chemical perception is a
sense that you don't think about much,"
he says. "It's much more than the sense
of taste or the sense of smell. There are
additional capabilities, like pheromone
reception and the perception of environ-
mental odors, that are poorly understood."
To support his theory, Rittschof had
to locate the specific molecule that the
crabs responded to, and figure out how it
was produced. Working on vacation and
during the afternoons at a Florida confer-
ence, he researched and wrote two papers
that described his discovery: when one
snail eats another, an enzyme in its saliva
reacts with the other snail's muscle tissue
to produce the molecule that hermit crabs
respond to.
And different snails — with different
shells — produce different mixtures of
peptides within the molecule. Hermit crabs
only respond to molecules signaling the
right-sized shells.
With two published papers under his
belt, Rittschof was on his way. In 1980, the
University of Delaware hired him to figure
out what kinds of molecules tell oyster
drills that living oysters are nearby. Oyster
drills are predatory gastropods that drill
through the shells of living oysters and eat
them costing fishers and the seafood
industry millions of dollars.
His Sea Grant-funded research with
the oyster drills received the prestigious
Dean's Prize from the College of Marine
Studies, used two million larval oyster
drills and netted enough material to fill 16
Continued
COASTWATCH 21
research papers. Rittschof
found the molecule that oyster
drills respond to in the
chemical "body odor" that
oysters and barnacles produce.
Amazingly, it is the same kind
of molecule that tells hermit
crabs a new shell is available.
"Evolutionarily, these are
really old molecules and really
old chemical-reception
systems," says Rittschof. His
research points to the ancient
development of systems of
chemical communication —
perhaps so ancient that it
predates the evolution of
multicellular organisms. "A
molecule in human blood tells
all the white blood cells to
creep to the site of a wound. ...
The same kind of molecule
tells hermit crabs that a shell is
available." And it tells crabs to
release their larvae, barnacle
and oyster larvae to settle out
of the water column, and
oyster drills that they have
found their lunch.
Because the molecules and the
chemical communication systems that
perceive them are so old, the systems are
the same from animal to animal. "You
can't modify the transduction system, but
you can shape it to different ends," says
Rittschof. Animals read different pieces of
the same molecule and perform different
behaviors as a result, but the medium for
receiving and processing the chemical
message — the hard-wired reception
system — is always the same.
Rittschof s work with the chemistry
of animal behavior brought him to Duke in
1982, where he was hired to develop a
non-toxic anti-fouling compound based on
extracts from soft corals. Existing anti-
fouling paints use copper to prevent
barnacle growth, but copper is a bio-active
'DR. DAN" PONDERS THE COMPEXITY OF NATURE.
element that can be toxic in the marine
environment.
Rittschof eventually received seven
patents based on his anti-foulant work, but
mass production of the products he
developed is on hold. "Registering the
compounds would take about 10 years
and cost about $1 1 million," he explains.
So now he is once again concentrat-
ing on chemical sensory systems, isolating
the bio-active enzymes in fish mucus that
tell blue crab larvae and other small prey
that a predator is near. With fellow
researchers Richard Forward Jr. of Duke
and Richard Tankersley of the Florida
Institute of Technology, he also has
received funds from the National Science
Foundation to study how the dynamics
and "smell" of estuaries influence the blue
crab larvae who settle there.
In unlocking the secrets
of blue crab settlement and
fish "body odor," as well as
developing anti-fouling paint
and better fish lures, Rittschof
bridges a long-standing
chasm in modem science.
"There are two kinds of
science," he says. "Science
that asks how things work,
and science that applies
knowledge in practical ways."
Rittschof does both.
His office is a testimo-
nial to his wide-ranging
interests, and to his respect for
both practical and "pure"
science. On a crowded
bookshelf behind his chair
stands one of his patent
certificates. Another shelf is
dedicated to fossils he has
collected, including sharks'
teeth, a martin's bill, sand
dollars and a horse's molar.
Chemical diagrams are
scrawled on a blackboard
beside his desk.
Walls and bulletin boards flutter with
photographs and mementoes from students
— a snapshot of "Dr. Dan" flanked by
grinning coeds, a huge Chinese scroll that
he insists reads "Don't worry, be happy,"
an inscrutable paper oval above his
computer that says, simply, "Bacon."
"People bring stuff in here and leave it,"
Rittschof says with a bemused smile. And
he keeps it all: paintings and prints, an
embroidered cat, an Italian "candy" made
of glass.
Beyond the window lies his cherished
estuary, with all its animals and their
particular chemistries. Inside is the
cluttered habitat Rittschof has created for
himself, full of reminders of the work he
loves.
"It's all about teaching and curiosity,"
he says. □
22 AUTUMN 1999
PEOPLE &
PLACES
Operation Pathfinder participants listen as Stan Riggs explains coastal dynamics on the Oregon Inlet jetty.
Getting to Know
tneCoa£
A
An Education for Teachers
By Ann Green • Photos by Michael H alminski
. s waves crash against the
rock jetty near the Herbert Bonner Bridge
on Oregon Inlet, East Carolina University
marine geology professor Stan Riggs
describes it as the "highest-energy inlet on
the East Coast."
'It's like a tiger caught in a trap," says
Riggs.
Oregon Inlet opened in 1846 just
north of the present location of the Bodie
Lighthouse, which is now more than three
miles from the inlet's waters.
Two lighthouses built on the inlet's
south side were lost to erosion as the inlet
migrated south at about 200 to 300 feet per
year. In 1876, the Bodie Lighthouse was
built on the north side.
Because of the inlet's southward
migration, the Bonner Bridge, built in
1 962, was in danger of being left behind by
the inlet, Riggs explains. To stop the
migration and save the bridge, the state
built a rock jetty on the south side.
"This has temporarily trapped the
tiger," he says of the controversial jetty that
faced opposition from some scientists and
environmental groups.
Riggs presents the history of the inlet
as a coastal processes lesson to elementary,
middle- and high-school teachers in
COAST/Operation Pathfinder. Loaded
down with backpacks and water bottles,
the teachers follow Riggs along the rock
jetty bordering the inlet.
Pattie Chapman, an eighth-grade
Continued
COASTWATCH 23
PEOPLE &
PLACES
teacher from Delaware, finds the marine
geology lesson very informative. "I am
interested in the natural conservation of the
environment. I have watched the whole
environment being raped. ... It is impor-
tant to maintain an equilibrium with the
environment and understand how geology
works with plant life. We have a real
obligation to teach our students about these
processes."
Oregon Inlet
isn't the only place teachers explore during
their 15-day course. During field trips and
classroom activities, 27 teachers from the
mid- Atlantic states, Georgia, Idaho and
Missouri have learned firsthand about
marine life and coastal processes along
North Carolina's Outer Banks and the
Virginia shore of the Chesapeake Bay.
Lundie Spence, marine education
specialist for North Carolina Sea Grant,
leads the course with Vicki Clark from
Virginia Sea Grant, Terri Hathaway from
the North Carolina Aquarium at Roanoke
Island and Bill Martin, a teacher with the
Forsyth County Schools. North Carolina
Sea Grant and Virginia Sea Grant co-
sponsor the course offered through NC
State University.
"It is important to maintain
an equilibrium with the environment
and understand how geology works
with plant life. We have a real
obligation to teach our students
about these processes. "
Pattie Chapman, Delaware
Spence says it's important for all
teachers — whether they live near the sea
or inland — to understand the dynamics of
the coast and its living resources. "In
addition, teachers need to meet researchers
to understand how science works. In the
Lundie Spence explains sand types and beach composition
to Operation Pathfinder participants.
next century, coastal states will be facing
important decisions about their shorelines.
These decisions should be made by people
who understand the science and sociology
of an area."
Kathryn English, a science teacher at
Pamlico County High School in Bayboro,
plans to use her experiences to develop
hands-on activities for her students.
"I want to have my seniors develop an
ocean lesson and present it to elementary
students," she says.
CO AST/Pathfinder began as a pilot
program in Mississippi in 1993. One year
later, it was implemented in six regions
across the country. The program now
includes Web technology and an integrated
approach to education. Participants learn
how to develop Web pages and find
lessons on the Internet.
"In six years, the program has been
offered twice in North Carolina," says
Spence. "It also has rotated among Sea
Grant programs in Delaware and New
Jersey."
COAST is funded through the
National Ocean Partnership Program by the
Office of Naval Research, in cooperation
with the National Marine Educators
Association, the University of Southern
Mississippi, St. Norbert's College in
Wisconsin and the National Sea Grant
College programs.
The participants range from recent
graduates to educators with more than 20
years of experience. Several of the teachers
work with disadvantaged students who have
little access to the coast.
"One of our objectives is to illustrate
career opportunities in oceanography," says
Spence. The program includes presentations
on careers, deep-sea experiments and bay
fisheries by researchers at the Virginia
Institute of Marine Science (VIMS).
"Oceanography is a field that is
underrepresented by minorities and
women," she adds.
One of the COAST course require-
ments is to develop a curriculum and lesson
plans for the fall semester. The program
also emphasizes the use of technology and
multi-disciplinary approaches to teaching.
24 AUTUMN 1999
PEOPLE &
PLACES
"It was awesome standing in the
middle of the bay and picking up oysters and
crabs," says English. "The reef was more
movable than I thought it would be."
The group also investigated coastal
environments in North Carolina — from
kayaking in choppy waters in Shallowbag
Bay to an aerial tour of the barrier islands.
"We had a great time kayaking," says Mike
Jordan of Raleigh, a 1999 NC State
graduate. "We saw thousands of jellyfish in
a marsh creek."
One day the group traveled from Nags
Head to Buxton to observe coastal pro-
cesses, stopping at the Pea Island National
Wildlife Refuge, which was established in
1938. During the winter, migratory
waterfowl feed in the large ponds.
On the beach in front of the refuge,
participants sampled different kinds of sand
— from the dunes to the surf — and used
their fingers to collect sand samples.
Operation Pathfinder with program leader Terri Hathaway and Park Ranger
Doreen Ruffing at the Cape Hatteras lighthouse site.
For example, science and literature lessons
can be combined.
Beth Howard, a teacher at Dixon
Elementary School in Onslow County,
will use the coastal experiences in her art
curriculum. While on the field trip, Howard
has sketched marine life, coastal buildings
and other coastal memories in her journal.
"I am going to share the journal with
my students," she says. "A picture is worth
a thousand words. It's cheaper and more
personal than photos."
TCclChCrS began the
COAST course in Virginia, where they
waded on a restored oyster reef on the
Piankatank River, measured plant zones in
a salt marsh at the York River State Park in
Lightfoot and participated in activities at the
Virginia Marine Science Museum in
Virginia Beach.
"You can take a piece of tape and re-
move sand for further study in the class-
room," says Spence. "Students can compare
and contrast the diversity of the sand."
The teachers got a glimpse of maritime
history at the Chicamacomico Lifesaving
station in Rodanthe, one of the first seven
U.S. Lifesaving Service complexes used to
rescue shipwreck survivors at sea. The ser-
vice later became the U.S. Coast Guard.
The site is now a museum packed with life-
saving devices and rescue boats.
"It was awesome standing
in the middle of the bay and
picking up oysters and crabs ...
The reef was more movable
than I thought it would be. "
Kathryn English, Bayboro, N.C.
Behind the lifesaving station, the
teachers looked at houses threatened by a
high erosion rate. "This reinforced the dy-
namics of the beach to the teachers," says
Spence.
One of the highlights of the trip was
watching the relocation of the Cape
Hatteras lighthouse. The teachers joined
the crowd of people lined against the fence
to see the lighthouse move along rails,
powered by hydraulics.
"It was fascinating seeing how the
lighthouse move is related to earth science
and geology," says Andrew Cohen, an earth
science teacher at Butler High School in
Matthews. "It was also interesting to see
how a natural phenomenon affects society."
Spence is excited about the quality of
the teachers in the program.
"I am looking forward to seeing how
they apply their coastal experiences this fall
in their classrooms," she says. □
For more information on future
COAST/ Pathfinder programs, contact
Lundie Spence by phone at 919/515-2454
or by e-mail at lundie_spence@ncsu.edu.
COASTWATCH 25
LEGAL
TIDES
26 AUTUMN 1999
I
T
JLhe beach season is drawing to a
close. Kids are back in school, and fewer cars
packed with towels, sunscreen and plastic
toys trek to the coast every weekend. But for
the past few months, vacationers have
crowded North Carolina's miles of public
beaches.
On Saturdays in July and August, the
roads to the Outer Banks are clogged with
traffic heading for the sandy shore. North
Carolina vehicles jostle with cars from Ohio,
New Jersey, Virginia and Pennsylvania. For
many vacationers, this trip to the beach is a
summertime ritual, whether it takes hours of
driving or a quick walk across the street. The
wide, sandy beaches draw surfers, sunbathers
and fishers from across the state and around
the country, and they are open to everyone.
Traditionally, North Carolina has
welcomed visitors to its shoreline. The
Coastal Area Management Act (CAMA),
which regulates coastal development, also
provides a beach and waterfront access grant
program for local governments. With funding
from CAMA, seaside towns can buy coastal
property and build public parking lots and
walkways over the dunes. Some communi-
ties also provide shower facilities and
dressing rooms.
Such Southern hospitality has made
North Carolina's coast a hot summertime
destination. But can visitors take public
beach access for granted? Not necessarily,
says Walter Clark, coastal law and policy
specialist for North Carolina Sea Grant. The
rising demand for recreational shoreline
space is part of the problem.
The right to cross the dunes and plant an
umbrella in the sand has its roots in Roman
law, which held the seashores to be publicly
owned. Later, English common law took up
the tradition, and the United States followed
suit. Some states, like Virginia and Delaware,
allow public use of the beach only below the
low-tide line, functionally removing the
entire beach from the public domain. Other
states, like Hawaii and Oregon, have
proclaimed the beach to be accessible to the
public up to the first line of vegetation,
usually at the edge of the dunes.
Like many other states, North Carolina
holds its coastline in public trust to the high-
water line, which means that the wet-sand
LEGAL
TIDES
beach below the high-tide line is public
property. According to property titles, the
dry-sand beach landward of the high-water
mark is privately owned, but beach-goers
have usually marked out their territory in the
dry sand without provocation.
That may change soon, Clark says. The
booming population in coastal counties —
particularly Dare, Carteret and New Hanover
— puts increasing pressure on the same
beach resources. Until early this century,
"there weren't many people in coastal North
Carolina, and there was lots of beach," Clark
says. "People were spread pretty thinly." But
on a cloudless summer day, people now
crowd the sand up and down the state's 230
miles of beaches.
And few of these people stick to the
wet sand. Though the dry-sand beach may
not be included in the state's public-trust
holdings, coastal visitors and residents have
long used it for sunbathing, picnicking,
fishing and traveling. Some beachfront
property owners have objected to this in the
past, putting up fences or signs at the high-
tide line to keep the public off the dry-sand
beach, but the state has always intervened.
"The public has been using the dry-
sand beach since the first colony was
established," says Donna Moffitt director of
the N.C. Division of Coastal Management.
The state's position is that long-time public
use of the dry sand constitutes an extension
of public-trust rights beyond the high-water
line, or an easement for public use of private
property. And until now, the fences or signs
have always come down.
But in June 1998, a small group of
property owners in the Whalehead Club
subdivision on Currituck Banks filed a
lawsuit against Currituck County, the state of
North Carolina and the developers of their
subdivision in an effort to keep the public off
their private property. They claim that the
public's use of the dry-sand beach prevents
them from enjoying their property and that
public parking lots and walkways are in
violation of subdivision rules.
The complaints listed in the lawsuit
include trash and human waste found in
back yards, trespassers who use private
showers under homes and strangers who
request the use of a telephone or bathroom.
If the state doesn't remove public beach
access to the area, the plaintiffs, who bought
their land with the assumption that the beach
was private, want to be paid for the public
use of the dry-sand beach.
Gary Shipman, a Wilmington attorney
representing the Currituck plaintiffs, sums
up his clients' lawsuit in two words: property
rights. "One of the fundamental property
rights which property owners in North
Carolina have is the right to exclude others
from their property, and our litigation seeks to
have the courts recognize that right,"
Shipman says. "If the state wants the public-
trust doctrine extended, they will have to
'pay' for that, as it would then constitute a
taking of our clients' property without
compensation, in violation of the state and
federal constitutions."
Though the homeowners also seek
judgment on several other issues, including
the subdivision's drinking-water supply and
paved roads, the quarrel over public beach
access is stealing the most headlines.
"lithe state lost the case, there would be
a major negative economic impact from lost
tourism," says Moffitt. "Rental properties
behind the first row of houses would be
reduced in value, because the people there
would no longer have access to the beach."
Vacationers could face prosecution if they
trespassed on the privately owned dry-sand
beach. At high tide, wading or swimming
would be the only recreation available.
The state is "vigorously defending its
position," says Moffitt. "We're arguing that
North Carolina citizens have always had
public-trust rights on our beaches. . . . People
have bought property along the coast with the
knowledge that the public uses the beaches in
this state."
To make the state's position clear, the
General Assembly passed a bill on public
beach access shortly after the lawsuit was
filed. The bill declares the beach open for
public use from the first line of vegetation
seaward, due to the "frequent, uninterrupted,
and unobstructed use of the full width and
breadth of the ocean beaches of this State
from time immemorial."
The bill's timing has raised some
eyebrows, but its intent is clear: to provide
resolution on a divisive issue. The ongoing
litigation highlights the need for court
interpretation of the state's position on public
beach access.
"Laws are passed all the time. Many of
them are later overturned by a court deci-
sion," Clark says. "We need clarity on
something as important as the beach, which
so much of our coastal tourism depends on.
This is a question that has been hanging out
there a long time." □
COASTWATCH 27
SEA
SCIENCE
J^n one of the first aquaculture
efforts of its kind, a North Carolina Sea
Grant researcher and a Cedar Island
flounder farmer are fattening wild-caught
fish to a more desirable market size.
The North Carolina Fishery Resource
Grant project is testing a theory that pound-
net fishers in the Albemarle and Pamlico
sounds have pondered for years, says Sea
Grant researcher Harry Daniels.
"The fishermen called me up with
this idea," says Daniels, a warm-water
aquaculture specialist at NC State
University's Vernon James Research and
Extension Center in Plymouth. "They
called it flounder fattening."
The price per pound of flounder often
rises when the short season ends in early
winter, hence the interest in simply keeping
the catch alive until its value increases.
Because larger flounder draw higher prices,
nurturing them to increase weight during
the holding period makes sense.
Daniels, who has done extensive
research on spawning and culturing
flounder, started a two-year flounder-
fattening trial in 1997. The grant has been
extended a few months to refine and
analyze growth rates and economics. The
Fishery Resource Grant program is funded
by the General Assembly and administered
by North Carolina Sea Grant.
The grant financed the construction of
a holding tank operation at the Pamlico
Aquaculture Field Laboratory in Aurora.
There, Daniels monitors how the fish —
mostly southern flounder — react to
captivity and variations in the tank
environment.
"We wanted to learn what people
would have to do to raise this fish," Daniels
says. Wild broodstock used in spawning
experiments had already revealed that
flounder don't like to be alone.
"They've got to be stocked densely to
get them to eat," Daniels says. No matter
how few the flounder or how large the tank,
"they'll pile on top of each other," he says.
Daniels theorizes it's "a comfort thing,"
similar to how cats like to snuggle together.
The tendency for togetherness also might
28 AUTUMN 1999
Fatter Flounder
Down on the Farm
I
SEA
SCIENCE
Above: Moon Park shows the clean
white side of a flounder, which draws
a high price in Asian markets.
At Left: This Cedar Island flounder-
fattening pond is full offish.
be magnified by the tanks' lack of a sand or
silt bottom cover, which would compromise
water quality and flow.
Flounder want company, but they also
require plenty of tank space — contradict-
ing fishers' speculation that flounder could
be kept in shallow trays. "They've got to be
able to swim around, even though they're
flat," Daniels says.
Tanks also need to be shaded from the
sun and kept clean. If there's anything in the
environment the fish don't like, they won't
eat. Sometimes they don't eat no matter
what — 20 to 30 percent of flounder
respond to captivity by refusing to eat.
"Those fish you have to identify early on
and sell them before they get too thin,"
Daniels says.
Some flounder refuse more economi-
cal chopped bait, insisting instead on a
traditional diet of live fingerlings. "It's hard
to get them to eat chopped fish," Daniels
says. "What we're trying to avoid is people
having to go out and catch a bunch of
juvenile fish every day."
Daniels is working with a commercial
operation in Cedar Island. Moon S. Park of
Coastal USA Fish Co. had been a seafood
dealer in Wilmington for many years,
handling flounder and other fish largely for
Asian markets. He was getting his holding
tank operation started when the grant was
approved, and he agreed to be part of it.
From his marketing experience, Park
figured that fattening small flounder could
meet the demand, particularly among Asian
markets, for big, plump flounder. Fat
flounder are preferred for sushi and for live
markets, where diners choose their entrees
on the swim. Park works with both foreign
and domestic markets.
A 4-pound flounder fetches premium
prices in Japan, Park says. A 2- to 3-pound
flounder has the most general market
appeal. But a flounder of the minimum
legal size in North Carolina weighs only
about 1 pound.
"That's not enough for one family or
even one person," Park says.
Park is nurturing about 8,500 fish, or
about 12,000 pounds, segregated by size
into two large tanks and three smaller ones.
He buys fish in season from local fishers,
who stack the flounder from their nets into
trays and tanks on the trawlers.
Park pays about 40 percent over the
market price because of die extra work and
gentle handling that live flounder require.
This has helped his operation gain quick
acceptance in the traditional fishing
community.
He holds and feeds the flounder for a
one-year "growing season." The flounder
eat about 300 pounds of chopped bait every
afternoon. Park will try twice-daily feedings
in hopes of speeding the fattening process.
"I love my feeding time," he says.
"That's my most excellent time."
But Park also has encountered plenty
of problems. "I have a lot of time in, a lot
of mistakes," he says.
Of the flounder brought into his tanks,
30 percent die before going to market.
That, he says, is a lower percentage than
when he started. Most deaths occur in the
first two weeks, likely from stress or
injuries incurred during catching and
handling.
Park also has combated such
problems as parasites, which spread
quickly among confined fish. He and two
workers are at the tanks at all hours to head
off trouble. He keeps constant vigil at the
pumps and pipes that keep water flowing
through the tanks. He also monitors the
water's oxygen level and cleanliness.
"We're like the motel business," he
says. "Clean every day, feed every day."
Despite setbacks, some of which the
grant helped mitigate, Park has success-
fully fattened flounder for discerning
markets in Asia and several large cities
in the United States. Flounder bound for
Japan are driven to Dulles airport for a
non-stop passenger flight to Tokyo. The
flounder go on ice at the fish market within
30 hours — and are on the menu that
evening. Tank-to-table time is less than
36 hours.
Park's maximum annual production
capacity is about 30 tons. He wants to
double that — and to try fattening some
flounder to premium weights of 4 pounds
or more. Both aspirations could increase
profits, but he says that isn't his only
motivation.
"I want to prove this project," he says.
"The money is not that important"
Wachovia Bank recently approved
a credit line for Park's operation. Bank
backing is a welcome indication that
flounder fattening is a viable project,
Daniels says.
"What we don't know yet is the
economy of scale," he says. Preliminary
findings are heartening, but the sheer
number of flounder required to earn a
profit would probably preclude most
pound-netters from setting up tanks to
fatten their catch.
"It looks like it's going to take a lot of
fish to make any money," Daniels says. El
COASTWATCH 29
5 3
fZ > O
□ C) o
D m -
£ ° 00
udding Scientists • Post-Floyd Water Quality • Jumping Run Creek
From the Editor
Holiday Greetings
The holidays are upon us. a time when
families often come together and communities
celebrate. Across eastern North Carolina this year,
the strength of families and communities takes on
a new importance. From Smithfield to Southport,
Goldsboro to Greenville, Kinston to Kitty Hawk,
many families are still picking up the pieces after
Hurricane Floyd blasted through on the heels of
Hurricane Dennis.
The combined storm damage is astounding:
Dozens died as floodwaters swept through entire
towns. The economic tally reaches into the
billions of dollars in damage to homes, schools,
businesses and farms. Clean-up will take months.
The economic and emotional recovery will take
even longer.
Along the coast, Sea Grant extension staff members are
working with residents as they cope with the storms' aftermath.
Communities on the southern coast felt the storm surge. Other spots
along the sounds had flooding. Many businesses lost income as
major highways were closed or fishing areas were inaccessible.
The environmental impact of the storms is a top priority for
many Sea Grant researchers. They are looking at short- and long-
term effects of the storms on coastal ecosystems. As inland rivers
flooded, scientists were already gathering water samples.
In particular, funding from the state and national Sea Grant
programs will allow scientists to monitor nearshore ocean waters,
which showed early effects from the floodwaters.
In addition, ongoing Sea Grant research projects on the state's
coastal rivers and estuaries are now considering storm-related factors
Coastal residents are well aware of the power of hurricanes and
storm surges. They are used to helping each other pick up the pieces
after storms.
But with Floyd, much of the damage was from inland flooding,
with water levels in places like Rocky Mount and Tarboro well
above the 500-year-flood estimate. Within days of the storm, coastal
residents were heading inland with ice, food and equipment.
"Although our coastal areas and commercial
fishing families are also victims, most are
extremely fortunate to have been spared what
many of the other inland communities are going
through," explains Jerry Schill, executive director
of the North Carolina Fisheries Association. The
fishing families delivered ice and organized a fish
fry to raise funds.
Relief efforts continue. Many Coastwatch
subscribers undoubtedly have already offered
contributions. In addition to efforts by the
American Red Cross, the Salvation Army and
other charities, the state has established a special
fund. Checks may be sent to:
Hurricane Floyd Disaster Reuef Fund
Office of the Governor
20301 Mail Service Center
Raleigh, NC 27699-0301
One hundred years ago another big storm changed a cluster of
coastal communities. The storm prompted the last permanent
residents to move from Diamond City on Shackleford Banks to
Harkers Island or the "Promised Land" in Morehead City. In this
issue, Ann Green visits with descendants of those families, who
gathered for a reunion earlier this year.
This story of strong family heritage and community identity
fits this holiday issue — our last issue of Coastwatch in the 1990s.
We also take this opportunity to look ahead, as we showcase young
scientists who may hold the keys to scientific discoveries in the
next century. And we look at water quality and inlet dynamics,
issues likely to remain on the forefront of North Carolina's coastal
agenda for decades to come.
Stories from the past. Bragging about the kids. Planning for
the future. Add in some great holiday seafood and Sea Grant gift
ideas. I think we have all the makings of a holiday gathering for the
extended family of North Carolina Sea Grant.
So, have a seat. Relax a bit before you ring in the year 2000. □
Katie Mosher, Managing Editor
Contributors
Writers:
Ann Green n Katie Mosher a Renee Wolcott Shannon D Cynthia Henderson Vega
Photographers:
JimBahen D Alison Davis n Michael Halminski a Herman Lankford
Spencer Rogers 0 LundieSpence Q Scott D. Taylor D Erin Wall
Features
Coastal Tidings 2
Rekindling Memories:
Decendants Celebrate 1 00th Anniversary of Great Storm
A century ago, high winds and flooding forced the residents of
Shackleford and Ca'e Banks to flee their island homes forever.
Ann Green joins their descendants to honor island traditions and
celebrate family memories 6
Budding Scientists: Teens Join Cutting-Edge Reaearch
Tomorrow's Nobel scientists are today's high school students, who
plunge into blue-crab studies and flock to hands-on classes in
fisheries and aquaculture 12
Downriver Scientists Assess Post-Floyd Water Quality
Hurricanes Dennis and Floyd devastated North Carolina communities
this summer, but the storms' long-term environmental effects are
still unknown. Researchers share their early findings and look to
the future 16
Jumping Run: Building Hope for Closed Shellfish Beds
For years, high bacterial levels have shut down shellfish beds and
swimming holes. A new demonstration project seeks water-quality
improvement strategies that could reopen shellfish areas up and down
the coast 19
Sea Science: Dynamic Inlets: The Changing Shape of North
Carolina's Coastline
Narrow barrier islands define our state's coastline. Between the
islands, inlets narrow and swell, spit sand and water, and strike an
uneasy balance between the sounds and the sea. Explore the history of
these changeable waterways with Katie Mosher 24
The Catch: Catch and Release: Circle Hooks Round Up
Giant Tuna ... And Let Them Swim Away Again
The circle has long been considered a perfect shape, but local fishers
have only recently discovered the amazing efficacy of the circle hook.
Renee Wolcott Shannon reveals the secrets of this improbable tackle
and ponders the allure of catch and release 26
Maritime Morsels: Holiday Festivities: Fish, Shrimp and Oysters
Brighten Traditional Meals
'Tis the season for eating, and these seafood recipes will have your
taste buds begging for more. Enliven your holiday table with gifts
from the sea 28
COASTWATCH 1
Coastwatch
Managing Editor
Katie Mosher
Senior Editors
Ann Green
Renee Wolcott Shannon
Designer
Linda Noble
Circulation Manager
Sandra Harris
The North Carolina Sea Grant College
Program is a federal/state program that
promotes the wise use of our coastal and
marine resources through research, extension
and education. It joined the National Sea Grant
College Network in 1970 as an institutional
program. Six years later, it was designated a
Sea Grant College. Today, North Carolina Sea
Grant supports several research projects,
a 12-member extension program and a
communications staff. Ron Hodson is director.
The program is funded by the U.S. Department
of Commerce's National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration and the state
through the University of North Carolina.
Coastwatch (ISSN 1068-784X) is published
bimonthly, six times a year, for $15 by the
North Carolina Sea Grant College Program,
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, North Carolina 27695-8605.
Telephone: 919/515-2454. Fax: 919/515-7095.
E-mail: kmosher@unity.ncsu.edu.
World Wide Web address:
http://www2jwsu.edu/sea_grant/seagrantJitml.
Periodical Postage paid at Raleigh, N.C.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to
Coastwatch, North Carolina Sea Grant.
North Carolina State University, Box 8605,
Raleigh, NC 27695-8605.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Gifts for Coast-lovers
Look again at
your holiday gift
list and you may
recognize a trend:
Your family,
friends and co-
workers love the
North Carolina
coast.
One could
spend the whole
day collecting
seashells. Another
keeps a sailboat just
off the Intracoastal
Waterway. All
appreciate the strong
history of coastal
communities and ponder
the future of delicate
ecosystems.
Many North Carolina
Sea Grant publications are
popular for just such coast
lovers. Here are a few.
• Seashells of North Carolina
allows even the most casual shell hunter
to identify a precious find. The 132-page
book includes color and black-and-white
photographs and descriptions of more
than 250 shells. The guides — UNC-
SG-97-03 — are $12 each.
• Shifting Shorelines: A Pictorial
Atlas of North Carolina Inlets offers
both geology and history lessons as
readers take a tour of the state's 22
inlets. Chronological photographs and
text trace the
changes over
time. The
50-page,
large-format
books —
UNC-SG-
99-07 —
are $15 each.
For more
information
on North
Carolina
inlets, turn
to page 24.
• Travel
the length of the
North Carolina
shoreline with
Coastwatch,
finding unique
personalities and
places, cutting-edge
science, and updates on
Sea Grant extension and
education projects. Annual subscriptions
— six issues per year — are $15. Gift
forms are in the center of the magazine.
A list of other Sea Grant publica-
tions can be found on the Web at www2.
ncsu.edu/sea_grant/seagrant.html.
To place your order, send a check
to North Carolina Sea Grant, NC State
University, Box 8605, Raleigh, NC
27695-8605. Please include the publica-
tion name and number. For more
information, call 919/515-9101. - KM
Front cover photo of
Shackleford Banks and
table of contents photo of
Cape Lookout lighthouse
by Scott D. Taylor.
Printed on recycled paper. ©
In the Next Issue of Coastwatch
One of the nation's original stations for the U.S. Lifesaving Service
is getting a new life thanks to volunteers on Hatteras Island.
Check in on the renovations by the Chicamacomico Historical Association, Inc.
For those of you who like the adventure of sea rescues, our Book Market section
will offer invigorating selections for wintertime reading.
2 HOLIDAY 1999
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Mysteries of ]
Why are harmful algal blooms toxic
and how do they pose a health threat to fish
and humans?
North Carolina Sea Grant researchers
and other experts address the ecological
and health concerns of Pfiesteria piscicida
and other harmful species in "Nature Out
of Balance," a two-part documentary that
aired in August on the University of North
Carolina Television.
The scientific detective story follows
researchers to North Carolina rivers and
sounds to probe the secrets of mysterious
icroorganisms
microorganisms. The first segment
examines the scientific context of harm-
ful algal blooms, which are spreading
geographically and occurring more
frequently. The second show deals with
human health effects, particularly those
associated with Pfiesteria.
The program is a co-production of
UNC-TV, North Carolina Sea Grant and
the National Institute of Environmental
Health Sciences. Video copies of the series
are available from Sea Grant for $10.
Call 919/515-9101. — A.G.
Cape Lookout Lighthouse Renovation
At the historic Cape Lookout
lighthouse, the diamonds are beginning to
look a little rough. Inside the 1 5-story tower,
the mortar has cracked, and the metal has
rusted. During storms, water seeps in.
To preserve the distinctive black and
white diagonal checkerboard landmark, the
Coast Guard started renovations in July.
"We are doing interior renovations,"
says Chief Nick Johnston of the U.S. Coast
Guard. "Large chunks of bricks have fallen
from the tower. It had become unsafe for
personnel. We hope to get the interior in
better shape. Our work has been thrown
back because of Hurricane Dennis."
During the $71 ,400 renovation, the
bricks and metal are being repaired, and the
lantern is being preserved.
The last time the Coast Guard worked
on the lighthouse was in 1 995, when it
repainted the traditional black and white
diamonds.
Throughout the renovations, the light
will shine from the beacon. — A.G.
Discover .
Diverse Wildlife
at Buckridge
Reserve
am a vast swamp forest
for a glimpse of large black bears.
Watch red-cockaded woodpeckers
perch on pine trees. If you are lucky,
spy an endangered red wolf or
American alligator.
This diverse wildlife can be
found in various habitats at
Buckridge Coastal Reserve along
N.C 94 near Columbia. The site,
which stretches over 1 8,000 acres,
is the first and largest inland reserve
among the nine components of the
N.C. Coastal Reserve.
"This represents the coastal
reserve's first mainland site," says
John Taggart, coastal reserve
coordinator for the N.C Division
of Coastal Management. "It
includes an example of a low-
salinity estuarine habitat."
The reserve encompasses a
vast area of swamp forest, including
5,000 acres of Atlantic white cedar
— half the documented remaining
acreage of cedar in the state.
The state purchased the land
from Primland Ltd. with $6.8
million in grants from the Clean
Water Management Trust Fund,
the National Heritage Trust Fund
and the Coastal Wetlands Fund,
administered by the U.S. Fish and
Wildlife Service. The North Carolina
chapter of the Nature Conservancy
negotiated the purchase on behalf
of the state. — A.G.
COASTWATCH
COASTAL
TIDINGS
A Forest for the New Millennium
Around the Network:
New Marine
Mammal
Guide
Whal es. Dolphins. Seals.
Loggerhead turtles. These sea
creatures have long fascinated
kids of all ages.
Now Rhode Island Sea
Grant has a new Guide to Marine
Mammals and Turtles of the U.S.
Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico to
help you identify 45 species.
The guidebook, written by Kate
Wynne and Malia Schwartz,
has full-color illustrations and
photos, as well as distribution
maps.
Single copies of the
guidebook are $25. Make your
check or money order payable
to Rhode Island Sea Grant/URI
and mail it to Rhode Island
Sea Grant, Communications
Office, URI Bay Campus,
Narragansett, Rl 02882.
Discounts are available on
larger quantities. - K.M.
HOLIDAY 1999
If a tree falls in the forest with no
one to hear, does it make a sound? The
Zen riddle may be unanswerable, but as
Pocosin Arts knows, trees being felled
in the forest can definitely make an
impact.
For centuries, the Atlantic white
cedar — a juniper valued for its straight,
lightweight and resilient wood — was
heavily harvested for use in shingles,
house trim, channel markers and boats.
Now the globally endangered
cedar's plight is being heard. On the first
day of spring, schoolchildren will be
planting 7,000 Atlantic white cedars
on a 7-acre tract of the Pocosin Lakes
National Wildlife Refuge south of
Columbia in Tyrrell County.
A unique clay marker will be
planted with each tree to share this
moment in history with future genera-
tions. The resulting woodland will be a
demonstration forest for environmental
education.
The planting of the millennium
forest is a fulfillment of the vision of
Pocosin Arts, a nonprofit organization
"connecting culture to the
environment through the arts."
A pocosin is an upland south-
eastern swamp where Atlantic
white cedar forests once filled
an important role, stabilizing
streamflows, purifying water and
providing habitats for birds and other
wildlife.
But the project — 7000 Juniper -
is more than an attempt to save an
endangered plant species. It is an
integration of art and science
to improve quality of life.
The yearlong project will
focus on wetland ecology
and its protection.
Pocosin Arts also
plans to have an
environmental art exhibit
at the East Carolina
University School of Art, photographic
and bird-watching excursions into
juniper woods, a demonstration of shad-
boat construction, and a decoy exhibit
and carving workshop.
The project offers an opportunity
to consider "how we might restore the
environment," says Feather Phillips,
executive director of Pocosin Arts. The
project also encourages us "to think
about using art to express this time in
our culture's life — where we've been
and where we're going," she says.
Weyerhaeuser Corporation will
donate seedlings. Artists will design the
forest space, balancing densely planted
trees with open space to create an
environmentally functional ecosystem
with contemplative areas. Supporters
can buy bronze memorial plaques to
honor individuals or groups.
For more information about 7000
Juniper, call Phillips at 252/796-2787
or e-mail pocosinarts@hotmail.com.
- C.H.V.
COASTAL
TIDINGS
Monitor Expedition Successful
During a 25-day summer expedition,
the 1 999 USS Monitor diving team collected
data and video footage that can be used
in salvaging the historic shipwreck's engine.
The famous shipwreck is 1 6 miles off Cape
Hatteras.
"Overall we were quite successful,"
says John Broadwater, manager of the
Monitor National Marine Sanctuary at the
National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Administration (NOAA). "Our main goal
was to collect information on the engine
space to use next year in recovery efforts.
Since the shipwreck is upside down, the
engine is vulnerable and has to be
removed. Eventually, we will need to
recover the turret and guns" because of
their historical value.
The Monitor was one of the first
steam-powered, ironclad battleships, and
researchers say strong currents are
threatening to destroy the famous
shipwreck.
During the expedition, the divers
encountered a heavy layer of silt and only
recovered a few artifacts, including an
engine part, steam piping, a pharmaceuti-
cal bottle and mustard bottle. The
expedition was a partnership between
NOAA and the National Undersea
Research Center at the University of North
Carolina at Wilmington. -A.G.
Tallying Floyd's Oceanfront Toll
Xhe fury of
Hurricane Floyd hit
Brunswick County
beaches with rushing
water, eroding sand
and floating debris.
The combination of
forces was just too
much for some pilings
supporting older
cottages.
"It eroded two to
four feet around each
piling," says Spencer
Rogers, North
Carolina Sea Grant's
coastal construction
and erosion specialist. "There wasn't
anything to hold it up."
Rogers surveyed the beaches
immediately after the storm. He is now
reviewing that data to determine the
level of damage to buildings that meet
current building codes for deeper, wider
pilings.
In addition to the erosion, some of
the supporting structures were also
battered by floating debris — parts of
fishing piers, pieces of buildings, even
stop signs. In extreme cases, the debris
was more than 20 feet in length.
Rogers is working
with state and federal
agencies to document
the building damage
caused by this floating
debris.
Even newer
homes had damage to
under-house storage
areas, but that is to be
-gdfl expected, Rogers
^ftij H explains. The storage
areas are built with
breakaway walls that
may be damaged
during a storm surge,
but allow the building
to maintain its structural integrity.
To learn more about breakaway
wall construction, download a technical
bulletin that Rogers prepared for the
Federal Emergency Management
Agency. On the Web, go to www.fema.
gov I MIT I job 1 5. pdf. Look for "Design
and Construction Guidance for
Breakaway Walls Below Elevated
Coastal Buildings." You will need
Adobe Acrobat software to read the file.
A more detailed technical report
is also available from Rogers. Call
910/256-2083. -k.m.
Old Buck Lives On
C-omeJanuary, much of the
world will be caught up in the year
2000.
But in Rodanthe, folks will
gather for an oyster roast that
celebrates the heritage of "Old
Christmas."
They will honor the legend of
Old Buck, a bull that, as one story
goes, was the only survivor of a
shipwreck off the Outer Banks.
The bull became so famous
that he was honored at the town's
holiday celebration. Upon his
death, the community kept his
spirit alive.
For generations, town leaders
have donned a costume using steer
horns and a blanket. "We used to
ride on his back," says Joey O'Neal
of Rodanthe. "Mygranddaddy
would lead him in."
O'Neal's grandfather, the late
John Herbert, was the keeper of
Old Buck for more than 45 years.
An oral history published by Cape
Hatteras School in 1 979 also
describes earlier celebrations that
included festive costumes and
wandering minstrels.
Old Christmas officially falls
on Jan. 5. Rodanthe expects to
celebrate with an oyster roast,
square dance and the arrival of
Old Buck — led byjohn Herbertjr.
— on Jan. 8.
For more information on
Old Christmas, call O'Neal at
252/987-2560. -K.M.
COASTWATCH 5
Rekindling
DESCENDANTS CELEBRATE 100TH ANNIVERSARY
By Ann Green Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
A
soon as David Yeomans jumps ofFa boat
onto the deserted shores of Shackleford Banks,
he feels at home on the "holy ground."
Thoroughly soaked from the bumpy boat ride across
Barden Inlet, he walks barefoot across the sand,
recalling countless memories of island visits.
He remembers taking visitors to
old whaling camps that once stood in the sand.
He remembers watching herds of wild horses
wander through grassy areas that were once
inhabited by Diamond City residents.
He remembers his father's stories about the
1 899 storm that forced whalers and their families
to leave Shackleford Banks and Ca'e (Cape) Banks.
Continued
6 HOLIDAY 1999
COASTWATCH 7
reunion. Madge Quthrie tosses a memorial wreath into the water.
J.A. Rose enjoys the Ca'e Banks
T
in 1899, the big one came," says
Yeomans, 79. "The water came from the
ocean and sound and covered all the
banks and went in homes. People realized
that it was time to leave the spot where
they lived and loved so much."
Yeomans walks up a sandy hill,
stopping at the only telephone pole left on
the island. With a small crowd around
him, he lays a wreath to commemorate
the descendants of the Banks communi-
ties, including Diamond City — named
for the diamond pattern on the nearby
lighthouse.
The ceremony marks the 100th
anniversary of the 1 899 storm that forced
families to leave thriving, close-knit
communities and migrate to safer ground
at Harkers Island and Morehead City.
Today, Diamond City is a ghost town.
Ca'e Banks, where the Cape Lookout
lighthouse stands, also are deserted.
"We thank you for this day," says
Yeomans, the retired postmaster at
Harkers Island. "It's been a memorable
day all day long. Now, Lord, we lay this
wreath on this hallowed spot. We thank
you for those who lived here, our
families. Thank you for the countless
memories that flood our soul."
Earlier in the day, more than 600
descendants and friends of Bankers had
gathered at the end of Harkers Island on
Shell Point.
This reunion
will help us keep our connections," says
Barbara Guthrie Humphreys, whose
mother wrote Cartaret Love Song, a
poetry collection. "It's making you
stronger. It's acknowledging who you are
and where you are going."
Although Humphreys' ancestors left
the island 1 00 years ago, she and her
family still follow many traditions.
"Faith has been embedded in us,"
says Barbara's sister, Julie Guthrie
Fulcher. "Our ancestors also brought over
our preference for food — love of seafood,
collard greens, fried hogfish, sweet
potatoes, dumplings and fried cornbread."
As the descendants gather under
white tents, they feast on traditional
dishes, including clam fritters, light bread
biscuits (yeast rolls), oatmeal hurricane
cake, collards and dumplings.
"Thoughts of bringing together all
the family connections of the Banks
communities first surfaced when I read
Somerset Homecoming many years ago,"
says Karen Willis Amspacher, reunion
organizer and Core Sound Waterfowl
Museum director. "That story of a
commitment to family and heritage
challenged me to think of our own
scattered kinfolk and how wonderful it
would be to bring them all together again
— for the first time."
Since music is an important part of
the Banks heritage, the reunion partici-
pants sing a variety of traditional and
gospel songs.
While standing under an old cedar
tree, Yeomans commands an audience
while singing "The Booze Yacht," a song
about finding high-quality whiskey from
a rumrunner that ran aground on Cape
Lookout. Nicknamed the "Harkers Island
national anthem," the song was set to the
tune of "The Sidewalks of New York."
"I was 5 when they got together in
my father's house and wrote the song,"
he says.
Later in the afternoon, the descendants
gather at the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints cultural hall for a couple
hours of singing, clapping and readings.
"It is fitting that we are one hour
behind schedule," says Joel Hancock, the
reunion's master of ceremonies. "Time
didn't mean anything to our ancestors."
At times, the service becomes
solemn. When Annette Fluhart Willis sings
"I Stood on a Hill — on Shackleford,"
many descendants' eyes fill with tears.
8 HOLIDAY 1999
David Yeomans places a wreath on Shackleford Banks. Cape Lookout is in the background.
"It was very emotional," says
Yeomans. "It was homecoming and about
my people."
Throughout
the day, descendants also swap stories
about whaler Billy Hancock and other
Bankers.
Hancock's great-great-grandson,
Jonathan Willis, loves to tell a story about
his ancestor's whale dream.
During the last part of the season, a
whale appeared near his great-great-
grandfather's fishing camp.
"They sent the crew to harpoon the
whale," says Willis. "That night, my great-
great-grandfather had a dream that the
whale washed ashore at Cape Lookout point,
10 miles from where he lived. He got up in
the middle of the night and woke his crew.
Then he took off to find the whale. By the
time they got to the point, the whale had
washed ashore."
Fortunately, his crew had followed
and saved the whale from floating away,
adds Willis. After it was over, they came
back to Diamond City for a big square dance.
The whaling industry thrived in the
1850s on Shackleford Banks, known for
its well-organized whaling camps.
"It was shore-based whaling," says
Sea Grant researcher and East Carolina
University anthropologist David Griffith.
"It was never pelagic whaling like in
Moby Dick, where they followed the
whale around the world. At the end of the
season, they moved on to mullet fishing
and clamming, gigging flounder,
crabbing and farming."
Griffith says one fascinating
characteristic of North Carolina whalers
was naming the mammals.
"Whales were named for their
captors (Lee Whale, Tom Martin Whale),
for the weather (Cold Sunday, a day so
cold, it was said waterfowl froze in flight),
or for unique circumstances surrounding
their capture," writes Griffith in his new
book, The Estuary 's Gift: An Atlantic
Coastal Cultural Biography. "They were
able to name each whale because they
caught only a few each spring, and each
landing had something memorable about
it, something unique."
These whalers had a unique identity
and language, "spawning the distinctive
Tidewater English dialects reminiscent of
Elizabethan England," he says. The
descendants have a distinct speaking
style, using "pizer" for "porch" and
"ca'm" for "calm water."
Most of the whaling took place at
Diamond City, which had one distin-
Karen Willis Amspacher
guishing feature — a large sand dune
called "Yellow Hill." The last whale was
killed in 1909, writes David Stick in The
North Carolina Outer Banks: 1584-1958.
Several other communities dotted
the island. Just to the west of Diamond
City was Bell's Island, known for its
large and bountiful wild persimmon trees.
The westernmost part of the Banks was
known as Wade's Shore, the most
densely wooded part of the island.
East of Diamond City, across the
small "Drain" that eventually became
Barden's Inlet, was the small settlement
of Cape Lookout, also called Cape Hill.
Life centered around the large
lighthouse. "I remember going to the
lighthouse when I was 5," says Yeomans.
"The light shined through the
window. Back then, you could see all the
way from Shackleford to Morehead City."
The wrath of
two storms in 1896 and 1899 ravaged
the island. The last storm did the most
damage to Shackleford.
"There was water over everything,
with just few of the bigger sand hills
sticking their tops out, and the houses
mostly looking like houseboats,
Continued
COASTWATCH 9
Ca'e Banks descendants pay tribute to their families during a service at Shell Point on Harkers Island.
surrounded by sea water," writes Stick.
"It washed over the stones in the
graveyards and uncovered the bones of
the folks buried there; it killed most of
the big trees, and flooded the gardens
with salt water and cut the beach down
so low in spots that almost every high
tide would come over."
After the storm hit, residents
scurried to find new places to live. They
moved across the sound to Harkers
Island. They also migrated to a five-
block area in Morehead City, dubbed
the "Promised Land" because it was
much safer than the Banks. A few
families went to Marshallberg and
Bogue Banks, to a place now known as
Salter Path.
"They took houses apart and
stacked them on boats and took them to
the Promised Land," says Humphreys.
"As some of the Bankers were leaving,
they sang 'I'm Bound for the Promised
Land.'"
Phyllis Gentry lives in Morehead
City in a restored white frame house
brought over by Kilby Guthrie in 1 892.
"The house was brought over by a
sharpie — a flat-bottom boat — from
Diamond City when the weather got
bad," says Gentry.
By 1900, most residents had
vanished from Shackleford and Ca'e
Banks. As they arrived on the mainland
and Harkers Island, they brought with
them their affinity for working the water.
On Harkers Island, many descen-
dants became boatbuilders and fishers.
The boatbuilders developed a special
style, known as the Harkers Island or
Carolina design, recognized for its
wooden hull and flared bow.
"My ancestors brought with them
some of the traditions of old English
boatbuilding," says J.A. Rose, a model
boatbuilder. "Some of the designs came
from old England in the 1500s."
For years, Rose, who is nicknamed
"Captain" and wears a white sailor hat,
worked as a fisher and boatbuilder.
"I started fishing for a living when I
was 12 years old," he says. "It was
dumped on me. I have done a lot of
commercial fishing. I got out about 15
years ago and sold my boat."
Since retiring from fishing, Rose
has built more than 3,000 model boats
— from traditional Harkers Island
workboats to old-time oyster schooners.
He builds the boats at his Harkers Island
home about 1 50 feet from Back Sound.
Today, there are only a handful of
full-time boatbuilders and commercial
fishers left on Harkers Island.
Most of the descendants on the
island and across Carteret County
have gone on to other occupations,
including teaching, the ministry
and insurance.
Some, like Willis, a hairdresser in
Morehead City, also work in traditional
crafts. During the fall and winter, Willis
carves gunning birds that he displays at
shows along the East Coast. Carving
decoys is a Down East tradition.
10 HOLIDAY 1999
"I like the fact that it puts me back
in a time that has disappeared," he says.
"Even though I don't go out and shoot, I
like to look for ducks. My birds can be
used for hunting, but they are also
upgraded and painted more realistic than
old decoys."
Bankers' descendants still follow
the practice of taking care of each other
when they are sick or in need of food.
"I have a large extended family on
the island," says Hancock. "We are all
related. I always feel at home no matter
where I am on the island. There's an
expression 'it takes a village to raise
children.' It takes a community to raise
each other's children."
For years,
the Bankers' descendants returned
each summer to two-room camps on
Shackleford, where they fished and
carried on traditions. The simple camps
had no electricity. Usually, there was a
gas stove.
"You usually sat on the front or
back porch, depending on how the wind
was blowing," says Amspacher.
"The camps were very communal.
Everybody's door was open. People got
together and cooked. For lunch, you might
have a pot of butter beans. For supper,
clams, and watermelon after supper."
One favorite activity on
Shackleford' s east end was summer
horse roundups or pony pennings.
"Up until the mid-'70s, we would
go to a horse penning every summer,"
says Hancock. People herded the horses
and branded them with a hot iron.
Since most of the residents on
Shackleford Banks had no deeds to the
camps, they were forced to leave when
the National Park Service preserved the
area as the Cape Lookout National
Seashore. Although the national
seashore was authorized in 1966,
Bankers didn't abandon the camps until
they were forced to leave.
"December 1985 was a sad month
in the life of Harkers Island people,"
writes Suzanne Yeomans Guthrie in
Island Born & Bred. "Tears ran freely
and hurts were deep, as smoke curled on
the horizon from camps being burned by
their owners.
"With that smoke went memories
and feelings that could never be re-
placed. It was the end of a way of life."
In the Cape Village, some owners
struck a deal with the park service to
lease the land. Yeomans, who owned the
old Lifesaving Service boathouse,
negotiated a 25-year lease on his cabin in
1977. The house sits in a sandy swale
behind dunes pocked with remains of
World War II machine-gun nests.
"I have three years left on the
lease," says Yeomans. "I'll probably cry
myself to death if I have to give it up. I
was born over there. Hope they extend
the lease year to year."
National Park Service officials and
the community now work together to
preserve local traditions. In 1993, park
officials and members of the Core Sound
Waterfowl Museum negotiated a 30-year
lease for the museum on 16 acres of land
at Shell Point. The first phase of the
museum will open in summer 2000.
"The Core Sound Waterfowl
Museum is the Down East community's
permanent tribute to its history and our
way of holding on to the unique cultural
heritage of Core Sound," says
Amspacher. "We are fortunate to have
the National Park Service's support. As
owners and protectors of much of the
land around Core Sound, it is critical that
we work together to preserve these
natural and cultural treasures."
Even families who lost homes at
Shackleford still have a strong spiritual
connection to the island. They often go
back to fish, reminisce and leave their
footprints in the sand.
"I still go to Shackleford and Cape
Lookout to fish," says Willis. "I walk on
shore to make sure it is still here. There's
still a strong physical connection
between us and the Banks. It's like a
magnet that pulls us there. If you don't
visit there, you lose the energy." □
Down East on Core Sound,
community traditions thrive —
from wooden boats at Harkers
Island to intricately carved wooden
decoys.
The Core Sound Waterfowl
Museum will showcase the
wooden artifacts made from the
community's natural resources, as
well as the hunters, fishers and
others who have lived along Core
Sound for centuries.
Located on 1 6 acres of
maritime forest at the end of
Harkers Island, the new facility is
scheduled to open next summer.
The shell of the building was
completed this fall.
"We are unique in North
Carolina," says Karen Willis
Amspacher, the museum director.
"Our overall theme is the interpre-
tative relationship between the
cultural and natural environment."
The museum will include a
4-acre pond, educational facility
and numerous exhibits. For more
information, call 252/728-1500.
COASTWATCH 11
12 HOLIDAY 1999
Budding
Scientists:
Teens Join
Cutting-Edge
Research
By Ann Green
Photographs by Michael Halmlnski
K
Lristi Herzer stands knee-deep in the Pamlico Sound
near Oregon Inlet, using a vacuum-like hose to suck up aquatic
creatures from sea-grass beds.
"After you finish the sweep, use the dip net to make sure there
are no more jumping crabs," yells Lisa Etherington, a North Carolina
Sea Grant researcher and NC State University graduate student.
With the help of NC State researchers, Herzer, a Manteo High
School senior, dumps the collection on board a small boat. Then she
examines the samples — from juvenile crabs as small as a quarter to
tiny shrimp.
Herzer finds her first field research experience "fun and exciting.
I didn't realize there are so many living creatures in sea-grass beds."
From August to October, Herzer and 26 other budding scientists
from Ocracoke School and Hatteras, Manteo, Mattamuskeet and East
Cartaret High Schools gather samples each day for North Carolina
Sea Grant researcher David Eggleston' s study on juvenile crabs.
"It is interesting to find results that might be in a textbook some
day," says Manteo High School senior Chucky Ellison.
Since 1995, Eggleston has been involving high school students
in his ongoing study on the recruitment of juvenile blue crabs. The
study is funded by the National Science Foundation, North Carolina
Sea Grant and the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation.
The integration of high school students has been a "win- win
situation" and "critical to the success of this large-scale study," says
Eggleston, associate professor of marine sciences at NC State.
"With their help, we have identified unique and until now
undocumented nursery habitats for early juvenile crabs, as well as
the role of hurricane storm surges and northeasterlies on transporting
large numbers of settlement-stage blue crabs into the Pamlico and
Croatan sounds," he adds.
"After Hurricane Dennis, we had a huge peak in blue crab
settlements at Englehard in Hyde County. Through this experience,
the students gain hands-on experience in the scientific method and
increase their knowledge of coastal resource issues."
The students collect samples on docks as well as in sea-grass
beds in Pamlico Sound and seven other coastal locations. On the
docks, the students pull an artificial settlement habitat out of Oregon
Inlet. By using air-conditioning filter material to collect the crabs, the
scientists are simulating a natural habitat. Then the students rinse the
samples, strain the water and put the samples — which are sometimes
as small as fleas — in jars that go to a lab.
"The data will give researchers information on the number of
crabs moving through the water column," says Eggleston. "Blue crabs
are the dominant predator in North Carolina's estuary system" and the
state's top commercial fishery species.
During the collections, the students develop camaraderie with
researchers and get a close-up of marine life. While standing on the
sea-grass beds, Etherington guides the students in the research process
and quizzes them about the different stages in a crab's life cycle.
Continued
COASTWATCH 13
Kristi Herzer looks on as Chucky Ellison peers
through a spectrometer to check the salinity level,
while David Eggleston watches water activity.
"We want the students to realize that
scientists aren't all geeks," says Eggleston.
"Research can be fun. The students get a
chance to joke and relate to researchers. Lisa
is like a guidance counselor. They phone
her about all sorts of different issues."
experience is about. I have decided to
major in chemistry or a biological science."
However, Ellison finds research work
too tedious and repetitious to do it for a
living. "Although it has been a great
learning experience, I will probably major
Lisa Ethehngton and Derrick Blackmon prepare
the suction pump.
Through a national education reform
effort, scientists are being encouraged to
mentor high school students.
"This arrangement provides students
with first-hand knowledge of how research
works," says North Carolina Sea Grant
marine education specialist Lundie Spence.
"This may bring more people into science
careers. The university scientists also benefit
by extending the value of their investiga-
tions into school systems. This has a ripple
effect by getting teachers involved in
sharing new knowledge."
Many of Eggleston' s students have
gone on to major in physical or earth
sciences at major universities.
"I have some amazing stories about the
program turning on students," says
Eggleston. "One student was ready to drop
out of high school. After working on the
project, she decided to major in wildlife
management at a major university."
Herzer's research job has confirmed
her desire to pursue a science career.
"It's been a good experience," she
says. "Now I know what hands-on
Lisa Ethehngton examines samples.
in computer science," he says.
In North Carolina more high schools
are offering marine science and aquacul-
ture classes as electives.
"There is a tremendous interest in the
environment and oceanography," says Bill
Tucci, high school science consultant for
the N.C. Department of Public Instruction.
"Through the North Carolina Standard
Course of Study — goals and objectives
for the state's science curriculum — and
the National Science Education Standards,
students in grades K through 12 are being
encouraged to become more environmen-
tally aware."
In marine occupation classes at
Pamlico County High School in Bayboro,
students learn to navigate, tie a knot and
read charts while on a 38-foot Harkers
Island trawler.
"The class was more like a regular job
than school because you got out and did
things," says Allen Buck, a Pamlico High
David Eggleston sorts samples with students.
School junior. "I plan on going into the
Coast Guard after high school."
Through a North Carolina Fishery
Resource Grant the students also have
studied bycatch-reduction devices used to
free unwanted fish or other catch not
targeted by fishers.
"The research teaches them different
aspects of ecology and the value of
bycatch-reduction devices," says marine
occupation teacher Bruce Morris. "It also
gives them a chance to see how data is
collected. We actually make a trawl.
Sometimes, we come up with a better idea
how to use the device more effectively."
Because of the success of the class,
Pamlico High School initiated a marine
biology class this year.
A juvenile blue crab is tiny.
14 HOLIDAY 1999
"This class ties in with the marine
occupation classes," says Morris. "We go
out on the boat and collect different species
of fish, crab and shrimp. The students get
to see the different species alive and see
how they are harvested," and measure the
effectiveness of bycateh-reduction devices
for weakfish and mackerel.
As the aquaculture industry has
blossomed in North Carolina, more high
schools are offering aquaculture classes.
In 1987, an aquaculture class was
started at South Brunswick High School in
Southport. The program has now ex-
panded to include three levels of classes,
including one for seniors at Brunswick
Community College.
The school now has four ponds and a
reservoir that were funded by the state's
Fisheries Resource Grant program and
others.
"It's a vocational program in which
students learn about identifying fish, water
quality, inventory, harvesting, transporta-
tion and other things related to fish farms,"
says Barry Bey, the program instructor.
"Seniors help me with the operations of the
farm and develop business plans and
resumes."
This year, the program, which
focuses on three types of fish farming —
food fish, sport fish and hobby fish —
received the Governor's Economic
Developer of the Year award.
"This program has been a feeder farm
for the fish, farming and seafood industry,"
Lisa Ethehngton, Nathalie Reyns, Geoffrey Bell
and Chucky Ellison look at samples pulled from
seagrass beds.
Kristi Herzer and Chucky Ellison process
samples.
says Bey. "We have also educated the
public about aquaculture and helped start a
class at Brunswick Community College.
More importantly, the program has helped
students of all levels. It has given students
with learning disabilities a chance to get a
college scholarship."
Bey says that one of his biggest
success stories is a young woman who had
no interest in college until she began the
program.
"The class helped to motivate her and
gave her good work ethics," he says. 'This
young lady went on to graduate from a
community college. Now she is majoring
in marine biology and aquaculture at the
University of North Carolina at
Wilmington."
At Dixon High School in Holly
Ridge, students in the aquaculture class
maintain an oyster garden, where they
check the salinity and oxygen content of
the water and compare growth rates.
"We use an inquiry-based approach,"
says Ed Hudson, a science and aquaculture
teacher at Dixon. "We go out twice a week
to Alligator Bay and to an adjacent bridge
and take water samples. If there is plankton
Nathalie Reyns helps David Eggleston measure
a blue crab.
in the net, we do a gas test in the lab for
bacterial growth."
The students also keep logs on oxygen
content, weather and temperature. "It
teaches students an appreciation of nature,"
says Hudson. "When there are only 150,000
small oysters in the water and you can
harvest only 20,000 oysters, we need to look
at the mortality rate and what causes the
oysters to die."
Through the class, students also
develop an interest in science.
"In our first class, two students became
commercial fishermen with large fishing
vessels," he says. "Probably 20 percent of
the class becomes science majors."
Hudson would like to see more
programs like this in high schools.
"The class teaches students and the
public an understanding of the marine
environment," he says. "It helps people
develop an appreciation for the problems
associated with the marine environment.
Our whole community is supportive of the
program." □
COASTWATCH 15
DOWMtfVEK
Scientists
Assess
Post-Moyd
Water
Quality
B\ Katie Mo she i
16 HOLIDAY IW9
Eoodwaters from Hurricane Floyd
clearly devastated dozens of eastern North
Carolina communities, but what effect will
the flooding have on coastal ecosystems?
Time will tell. But within days of the
storm — which came on the heels of
Hurricane Dennis — North Carolina Sea
Grant researchers were already venturing
into the swollen rivers to begin water-
quality sampling.
flooding that caused some rivers to crest 20
feet or more above flood stage — was
about half the depth of the river where it
meets the sound.
"It is unprecedented in our experience
to see that stratification that far down-
stream," says Larry Crowder of the Duke
University Marine Lab.
In fact, by early October, the
floodwater plume was visible into Core
mi ;
Floodwaters inundated communities,
leaving residents thankful for rescue.
Photo courtesy ofthe N.C. National Guard
"We've caught the leading edge of the
floodwater plume, so we are in position to
watch the effects develop," says Larry
Cahoon of the University of North
Carolina at Wilmington. "Our ultimate aim
is providing decision-makers the broadest
information possible on the total environ-
mental impact of this event."
The first week after the storm,
Cahoon and his colleagues documented
lowered levels of dissolved oxygen and
lower salinity in the Atlantic Ocean near
the mouth of the Cape Fear River. They
are continuing to sample not only the river,
but also the open ocean miles from shore.
Farther north, early effects included
six feet of fresh water the color of
chocolate milk at the mouth of the Neuse
River, an area that normally has a saline
mix. The layer of fresh water — from
This earthen dam
fell victim to raging water.
Photo courtesy of the News & Observer
Sound and the Pamlico Sound —
both critical habitats for North Carolina
fisheries — according to Hans Paerl of
the University of North Carolina Institute
of Marine Sciences, who is coordinating
his sampling with Crowder and Duke
scientists.
"This is not likely to be a one-year
event. We expect it to play out over several
years," says Paerl. For instance, because of
the large amount of fresh water that has
moved into the sound, researchers will be
watching for freshwater algae, such as
blue-green algae, once the spring sun
warms the sound.
The post-Floyd sampling has been a
cooperative event, not only among the
university scientists in chemistry, biology
and fisheries, but also for state agencies
and participants in the N.C. Fishery
Resource Grant program.
With funding from the resource grant
program, the Cape Fear River Watch has
conducted sophisticated monitoring since
1996, sharing the samples with Mike
UNC-Wilmington researchers
gather water samples.
JimBahen
Mallin of UNC-W. The database shows
the typical nutrient, salinity and oxygen
levels or baseline, as well as the effects of
Hurricanes Fran and Bonnie.
On sampling runs after Floyd,
riverkeeper Bouton Baldridge, UNC-W
researchers and Sea Grant fisheries
specialist Jim Bahen noted other changes.
On the Northeast Cape Fear River,
small flatfish known as hogchokers had
come up to the surface seeking more
oxygen, Bahen says. The survival tactic
was not foolproof. The fish — normally
bottom-dwellers — became easier prey for
nearby gulls.
The oxygen issue is expected to be a
factor for some time. As the floodwaters
move downriver, they carry large amounts
of organic material, including waste from
flooded sewage plants and farm lagoons
Continued
COASTWATCH 17
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Samples of water from the Cape Fear Paver and the Atlantic Ocean are ready for testing.
Larry Cahoon holds an indicator for the turbidity of the water — in some areas, visibility was around 35 cm.
Alessandro Bocconcelli, left, director of operations for UNC-W's Center for Marine Science Research, and
marine science graduate student Jason Hales prepare a water sample. Hales caps samples from the Atlantic Ocean.
Cahoon looks at a water sample from the Cape Fear River.
PhoUX by Erin Wall
and other vegetative matter. When the
current slows, the matter settles.
"It will be there, and it will rot," says
Barbara Doll, Sea Grant's water quality
specialist.
That process of decay will consume
large amounts of oxygen — and fish need
oxygen to survive. Extremely low levels of
oxygen can lead to fish kills.
Other effects may be prolonged. For
example, fish that are already stressed by
low oxygen levels may become more
susceptible to disease, says James Rice of
NC State University.
Other studies will assess the levels of
pathogens or heavy metals. Mark Sobsey
of UNC-CH is looking at both bacterial
and viral effects. He will share his results
with the state's shellfish sanitation officials.
His studies will go beyond tests required by
state statute to declare swimming areas and
shellfish beds open.
Martin Posey of UNC-W says that his
database, which includes results after past
hurricanes, enables him to predict Floyd's
impact on the overall estuarine ecosystem.
"After each storm there seems to be a
cumulative effect on the benthic community
— the base of the food web," he says.
The extended visit from Hurricane
Dennis, combined with the effects of
Hurricane Floyd, also took a toll on sea-
grass beds that serve as nurseries for blue
crabs. "We can't find any sea grass in Point
Harbor," David Eggleston of NC State says
of his research site near Currituck.
His research after Hurricane Fran
showed that so many crabs were blown
into the sound, some found refuge in
unlikely spots. The sea grass may bounce
back quickly, Eggleston says, but if not,
the role of the alternative sites may
become a factor for the state's number-
one fishery next spring.
North Carolina Sea Grant researchers
will assess many facets of the double
punch of Hurricanes Dennis and Floyd,
says Steve Olson, associate director for
outreach.
'We are looking at a wide range of
topics, including water quality, fisheries
and ecosystems, aquaculture, seafood
safety, coastal hazards and tourism," he
says. □
18 HOLIDAY J 999
Near the opening of Jumping Run Creek, Bogue Sound is dosed to shell fishing.
JUMPING
RUN:
Building Hope
for Closed
Shellfish Beds
By Renee Wolcott Shannon
Photographs by Scott D. Taylor
J umping Run Creek rises in southern Carteret County and runs toward the sea, sliding
through brushy woodland and stands of live oaks, mobile home parks, back yards and
businesses. Drainage ditches channel water to the creek, and it flows fast and clear, the
color of tea. In the creek mouth, where Jumping Run empties into Bogue Sound, fat
oysters and clams tempt diggers hungry for shellfish, but the beds are closed for all but
a few dry days every year.
In Jumping Run, as in many coastal North Carolina watersheds, bacterial levels
are dangerously high. Though the shellfish are otherwise healthy, they are contami-
nated by bacterial levels that can reach into the thousands per 100 milliliters in some
tributaries. Counts of only 14 per 100 milliliters close a shellfish bed, while levels of
more than 200 bacteria per 100 milliliters shut a creek down for swimming.
Continued
COASTWATCH 19
"Jumping Run is a fairly normal
creek," says North Carolina Sea Grant
water quality specialist Barbara Doll.
"Creeks are this bad up and down the
North Carolina coast."
Since 1998, Doll has been working
with the Jumping Run Creek Shellfish
Restoration Project, an effort to reduce
bacteria in the stream and reopen shellfish
beds.
Project collaborators include the N.C.
Cooperative Extension Service, several
departments and schools from NC State
University, the Shellfish Sanitation Section
of the N.C. Division of Environmental
Health, Duke University Marine Lab and
the Carteret-Craven Electric Cooperative
(CCEC). Funds from a wide variety of
sources, including the U.S. Environmental
Protection Agency, the N.C. Wetland
Restoration Program and the Clean Water
Management Trust Fund, allow the
collaborators to work on sites throughout
the watershed.
By bringing together universities and
government agencies, the project gains
expertise, Doll says. While North Carolina
Sea Grant and Duke University provide
information about the coastal resources,
and NC State extension leaders help with
monitoring and land-use planning,
Shellfish Sanitation "grasps where else this
project could be applied," she says. "They
know how much rain it takes to close a
shellfish bed. They are out there in the field
every day."
The Roots of the Problem
Compared to many urban areas, the
watershed of Jumping Run Creek has only
moderate development. Only 5 percent of
the watershed's surfaces are impermeable
to water, including parking lots, roads and
rooftops. But the landscape is still far
different than it used to be.
Years ago, Jumping Run wound
through a pocosin forest or upland swamp,
says Nancy White, extension associate
professor and program leader at the NC
State School of Design, who heads
monitoring efforts on the creek. Spongy
soils slowed the flow of water, but proved
too soggy to permit much development.
The solution? Widespread ditching.
Like much of eastern North Carolina,
the community along the banks of Jumping
Run relies on drainage canals to speed
runoff and prevent flooding. Straight
ditches delineate the edges of fields and
businesses, replacing wetlands and the
gentle meanders of the stream's natural
tributaries.
Unfortunately, the rapid drainage that
is so convenient for property owners also
has drawbacks. Where bacteria-laden water
once filtered slowly through the pocosin' s
damp soils, giving the bacteria time to die
off, it now flows directly into the creek.
Bacteria from human and animal waste can
flush from septic tanks and back yards to
the mouth of the creek in a matter of hours,
and when storms scour the landscape, even
more bacteria flood the waterway.
The Shellfish Sanitation Section closes
the shellfish beds to prevent humans from
TOP: J.D. Potts of the Shellfish Sanitation Section monitors water
from a tributary to Jumping Run Creek.
CENTER: Potts watches runoff from Highway 24 flowing to Jumping Run.
BOTTOM: Eugene Clayborne, CCEC executive vice president and general manager,
stands at the site of a future stormwater wetland.
20 HOLIDAY 1999
ingesting pathogenic bacteria and viruses.
Shellfish, which filter their food from the
water, retain bacteria and viruses in their
bodies. Eating contaminated shellfish can
result in hepatitis, polio and typhoid.
Along North Carolina's coast, more
than 56,000 acres of shellfish beds are
permanently closed to harvesting as a result
of high bacterial levels. This area nearly
doubles after it rains, when temporary
closures give shellfish time to flush the
additional bacteria
The White Oak River Basin, which
waters of Bogue Sound."
In addition, the watershed was not
heavily developed and did not contain an
obvious point source of bacterial loading.
"It's a small watershed. Most of the
potential sources are in a relatively small
area — that will help us," Line says.
Problems at Jumping Run are likely to
be mirrored at other coastal sites, so
pinpointing the sources of bacterial
contamination, and determining how each
source contributes to the overall problem, is
essential. Then, engineers like Doll can
includes Jumping Run and portions of
Bogue Sound, has a significant acreage of
both permanently and temporarily closed
waters. Jumping Run is a perfect site to
demonstrate ways of limiting the amounts
of bacteria reaching shellfish beds.
"We felt we could isolate the
problems," says Dan Line, extension
specialist with NC State's Department of
Biological and Agricultural Engineering,
who works closely with White. "Jumping
Run was one of the first areas closed by
Shellfish Sanitation, indicating that it's a
major source of bacteria to the adjacent
choose water-control strategies to remedy
the flow of bacteria-rich water at specific
locations.
"The bottom line is, if you can't fix the
bacterial problem in Jumping Run Creek,
then you can't fix it anywhere," Doll says.
Searching for Clues
The Jumping Run Creek Shellfish
Restoration Project takes advantage of long-
term water-quality monitoring in the White
Oak River basin, which has been collecting
data on bacterial levels since the 1960s.
"We're trying to piece together the 30-year
history of the watershed," says Line.
Together, he and White work to produce an
understanding of how and why bacterial
levels have changed over time.
Since 1997, when the restoration
project began, researchers have inventoried
land uses along the creek, including
residential neighborhoods, mobile home and
recreational vehicle (RV) housing, an
industrial facility and open space — fields,
forest and swampland. Aerial photographs
from the last three decades show how the
land uses have changed over time, allowing
speculation on how those changes might
contribute to increases in bacterial loading.
In other fact-finding efforts, surveyors
visually assessed septic systems for leaks,
and found only two out of more than 50 that
appeared to be suspect. Researchers also
counted the numbers of outdoor pets and
estimated the numbers of wildlife, since
animal waste can contribute significantly to
bacterial problems.
"Waste is like a time-release system for
bacteria" says Doll. "Bacteria can live for a
long time in that environment, and every
time it rains, more get flushed into the creek
through runoff."
Scientists also tested the creek itself for
valuable data. By injecting dye into the creek
at specific locations, researchers can
determine how fast the water moves from
tributaries to the main stem of the creek.
Regular "grab" samples, or water dipped
directly from the creek, allows routine
monitoring for bacteria and other pollutants.
Additional storm samplers automati-
cally collect water samples over the course
of rain storms. When the samples are
combined, they provide a snapshot view of
any additional bacteria or pollutants washed
into the creek by increased runoff.
The results from these monitoring
efforts suggest that most of the bacteria
come from residential areas and open
spaces. After rainfall, bacterial counts were
elevated in the creek's two residential
tributaries. The culprits are most likely pet
and wildlife waste and home septic systems,
though researchers are not sure about the
role septic systems play.
Continued
COASTWATCH 21
Even when septic systems are
functioning properly, some studies have
shown that sandy soils allow up to 50
percent of the bacteria from a leach field to
travel quickly more than 100 feet from the
field. In the Jumping Run watershed, where
septic systems are never far from drainage
ditches, this bacterial mobility may present a
serious challenge.
The creek's third tributary, next to the
electric cooperative, complicates the issue
by adding another pollutant to the mix —
fresh water. "Bacteria live longer in fresh
water than in salt and it creates the wrong
salinity for the oysters," Doll says. "It's
almost an issue of habitat as well."
Slowing the rate of drainage into the
creek is a top priority. The project's dye
studies revealed that water from the
tributaries reaches the main stem of the
creek in hours rather than days, so that the
shellfish at the mouth of the creek are
always marinating in a stew of fresh water
and bacteria. In a natural pocosin system,
soils would trap and filter the water long
before it reached the mouth of the creek,
giving bacteria time to die and salt water
time to move up the creek with the tide.
The ditches, which accelerate drainage
by funneling water to the creek, are the
villains in this scenario. Yet ditches have
become an intrinsic part of the coastal
landscape, allowing for roads, houses and
other development. "You could plug all the
ditches, but then people's yards would
flood," Doll says. "You've got to convert
the ditches to wetlands, or slow the water
down before it gets to the ditches."
Finding Solutions
To slow the rate of runoff, the project
combines the expertise of engineers and
land-use planners with the direction and
enthusiasm of community members and
volunteers. At a series of design workshops
for watershed residents and businesses, the
project collaborators are introducing the
"best management practices" (BMPs) to
improve water quality in Jumping Run
Creek. They also seek guidance on where
to place BMPs.
"Residents in the watershed help
decide where to put them, and they
volunteer land," Doll says. Locals can also
reveal things about the watershed that
aerial photos cannot catch, like hidden
ditches or a pond that's always filled with
algae.
The CCEC, one of the project's local
collaborators, is already working with the
N.C. Wetlands Restoration Program to
Conrad hopes the results of the
stormwater wetland will reach far beyond
filtering the water, though he looks forward
to digging clams if the project is a success.
Working with a National Wildlife Federa-
tion venture, Wildlife and Industry
Together, the CCEC plans to make the
wetland a community focal point and an
outdoor classroom for local schools.
It /
convert five acres of ditched land on its
industrial site to stormwater wetlands. "I
can't say enough about the cooperation and
help we've gotten from them," Line says.
The restored wetlands will consist of
wide, shallow trenches planted with trees
and flowering plants that flourish in wet
earth. Water draining off parking lots, lawns
and roadways will be diverted to the
wetlands, where the roots of the plants will
filter out pollutants and nutrients. Perhaps
most importantly, the wetlands will slow the
flow of fresh water to Jumping Run Creek.
"We're real excited about being a part
of this project" says Craig Conrad, vice
president of engineering and operations at
the electric cooperative. "We know the
importance of water quality, and we're
happy to do our part to help clean up our
water."
Ultimately, the wetlands will feature
boardwalks and signs that will allow
students and other visitors to identify
wetland foliage and wildlife. The CCEC
will encourage wild creatures to settle in the
wetland by planting cedars and other trees
and installing bluebird boxes and martin
houses, Conrad says.
Extensive stormwater wetlands are not
the only options available to nearby
residents. Rain gardens are similar, smaller
constructions used to trap and filter water —
small basins filled with gravel, sand, organic
soil and plants. Parking lot medians and
other raised plantings are easy to convert
into picturesque rain gardens.
Grassy swales are another simple
water-treatment method: wide, shallow
pathways lined with grass. As water runs
slowly through a grassy swale, pollutants
22 HOLIDAY 1999
settle out or leach into the soil for treatment.
Low "check dams" placed across the swale
can slow water even further.
Permeable pavements, which combine
concrete or plastic grids with sand, rock and
soil, allow water to pass through them and
seep into the ground. Though they are not as
strong as conventional roadways, permeable
pavements can easily be adopted for use in
overflow parking lots, driveways and
emergency lanes.
Hope forthe Future
Tom Singleton, who attended a
Jumping Run community design workshop
in September, is eager to get involved with
the project. Singleton owns and operates
Water's Edge RV Park, a 13-acre camp-
ground on Bogue Sound. "Every time the
shellfish beds are open, my people like to go
out there and look for clams," Singleton
TOP: From the bridge at Barnesfield, Jumping Run Creek flows south between bulkheads
to Bogue Sound.
CENTER: Water leaving Water's Edge RVPark flows through these cattails near
Jumping Run Creek.
BOTTOM: Tom Singleton hopes the Jumping Run project will help him enhance the wetlands
encircling his campground.
says. "It's part of the campground. I'd love
to see it be better."
Like many other coastal residents,
Singleton has a ditch on his property that
drains into a swamp alongside Jumping
Run. Singleton hopes the restoration project
will help him enhance the wetlands on his
property. "One of the things they said at the
workshop is that you can have a sick
wetland," he says. "If I'm going to have
wetlands on my property, I want them to be
the best ones around."
Preston Pate, director of the N.C.
Division of Marine Fisheries, is also quick
to praise the restoration project. Jumping
Run Creek runs through his back yard, and
he recommended the watershed for the
project "because it lent itself very neatly to
the experimental phase of the planning. . . .
It's a real diverse but discrete system to
work with."
With 18 percent of the state's shellfish
beds considered permanently closed,
communities up and down the coast will be
tracking the outcomes of the Jumping Run
Shellfish Restoration Project. "There's the
potential for applying that technique to other
areas if it proves to work here," Pate says.
If the project works as planned,
Jumping Run could see reduced bacterial
levels by the end of this shellfishing season.
In spring, the CCEC will be planting
wetland vegetation and installing bird-
houses. Other landowners will be tending
rain gardens and grooming grassy swales.
If all goes well, when the holidays roll
around next year, homeowners along
Jumping Run Creek may be making oyster
stuffing and clam chowder from shellfish
gathered in their own back yards. □
For more information on Jumping Run
Shellfish Restoration Project, call Barbara
Doll at 919/515-5287. To get a copy of the
award-winning Coastal Water Quality
Handbook which describes runoff, pollution
and water quality in greater detail, call the
North Carolina Sea Grant office at 919/515-
2454, or mail a check for $6 to North
Carolina Sea Grant, NC State University,
Box 8605, Raleigh, NC 27695-8605. Write
UNC-SG-97-04 in the memo line.
COASTWATCH 23
SEA
SCIENCE
amic
The Changing Shape of
North Carolina's Coastline
T
By Katie Mosher
Photographs from
ShiftingShorelines:
A Pictorial Atlas of
North Carolina Inlets
-o many coastal visitors, North
Carolina's barrier islands define the state's
coastline, with each island offering a
unique personality.
The inlets separating the islands —
and linking the protected sounds to the
open ocean — are often overlooked.
But coastal residents and geologists
alike know the power and influence that
the inlets have had on North Carolina's
coastal history. Each year during hurricane
season and on into the winter nor'easters,
they ponder the possibility: Will a storm
move enough water to cut a new inlet, or
enough sand to close an existing one?
In fact, inlets can influence shoreline
erosion and accretion for up to a mile on
either side of the channel, explains William
J. Cleary, a North Carolina Sea Grant
scientist at the University of North
Carolina at Wilmington.
"Inlets are part of a sand-sharing
system. They are not just places where
water goes in and out," adds Cleary, author
of Shifting Shorelines: A Pictorial Atlas of
North Carolina Inlets.
The book — co-authored by Tara P.
Marden, who received her master's degree
from UNC-W — looks at each of the
state's 22 inlets, from Oregon Inlet in the
northern Outer Banks to Mad Inlet near
the South Carolina line. Each inlet is
documented with six chronological aerial
photographs and a short history.
While coastal residents easily note
even subtle changes in the inlets, visitors
may only notice when rapid erosion
threatens a building.
The new book gives historical
perspective on the inlets' dynamics,
including the impact of major storms.
"Inlets widen and constrict with the
passage of storms," Cleary says. 'Typically
during storms the inlets tend to widen and
then return to a balance."
For example, the surge associated
with Hurricane Hazel in 1954 widened Mad
Inlet to its maximum width of 230 meters.
Over time, the inlet narrowed again, until it
closed in 1997.
Oregon Inlet reached a maximum
width of 2 kilometers following the Ash
Wednesday storm in 1962. The same storm
dramatically widened Old Topsail Inlet.
Old Topsail Inlet had narrowed to the
point where it was partially closed in the
24 HOLIDAY 1999
Masonboro Inlet Shallotte Inlet
from 1938 to 1996 from 1949 to 1996
SEA
SCIENCE
mid-1990s, but Hurricanes Bertha and
Fran reopened the inlet to a width of 53
meters in 1996. Just two years later, the
inlet was closed again.
Hurricanes Bertha and Fran left
their marks on other southern inlets as
well, including Carolina Beach Inlet and
New Inlet.
Other storms have sent great
amounts of water cresting over the
oceanside dunes, but have not actually
cut new inlets. Such was the case with
Hurricane Dennis, which battered the
Outer Banks earlier this year, wreaking
havoc for Hatteras Island residents and
tourists and forcing state officials to
consider new options for N.C. 12.
Throughout history, inlets have
served as gateways to commerce and
adventure. In more recent decades,
inlets' mercurial natures have become
the bane of developers and property
owners who have built dream homes or
resorts along the fragile barrier islands.
The best-known example has been
Mason Inlet's migration toward the Shell
Island Resort near the tip of Wrightsville
Beach.
"Mason Inlet moved over 365 feet
in a year, averaging over one foot per
day," says Spencer Rogers, North
Carolina Sea Grant's coastal construc-
tion and erosion specialist. "Others have
moved over 1,000 feet in a single year."
The inlets reflect nature's volatile
side. While tidal currents constantly
attempt to deepen an inlet's channel,
ocean waves transport sand into the inlet,
filling it again. Inlets change as the
balance between these forces shifts.
"Inlets are the most dynamic coastal
features," Rogers says. □
To order a copy of Shifting
Shorelines: A Pictorial Adas of North
Carolina Inlets, send a check for $15 to
North Carolina Sea Grant, NC State
University, Box 8605, Raleigh, NC
27695-8605. Ask for publication UNC-
SG-99-04.
COASTWATCH 25
THE
CATCH
tchaiffmease:
Circle Hooks Round Up Giant Tuna..
And Let Them Swim Away Again
I
t's November, and once again
fishers are scanning the waters off
Morehead City and Hatteras for a fish that
has become an annual visitor: the giant
bluefin tuna. Though the bluefrn tuna
recreational season does not start until Jan.
1 , catch and release of the monster fish has
become big business in the coastal
counties. As a result, many anglers have
added circle hooks to their arsenals of
fishing gear.
Originally used in the longline fishing
industry, circle hooks have caught on with
recreational users because they do little
damage to fish. The unusual circular shape
actually prevents the fish from swallowing
the hook and getting injured internally.
Fishers theorize that the fishing line pulls
the hook back out of the fish's throat, to
lodge firmly in the comer of the jaw when
the fish turns. Anglers don't even need to
"set" the hook by jerking the line, as they
do with the ubiquitous "J hooks."
"You look at that hook and you say,
'There is no way a fish can get caught on
that,'" says Jim Bahen, North Carolina Sea
Grant's recreational fishing specialist. But
it works almost every time, catching tuna,
snapper, grouper and tarpon right in the
hinge of the jaw, where the hook can easily
be removed and retrieved.
Fishers and scientists are now
studying the hook's usefulness with
different species of fish, and so far, the
results are promising. Hard-mouthed reef
and ground fish were already known to
show high survival rates using circle
By Renee Wolcott Shannon
hooks, and preliminary work with flounder
suggests that they, too, respond well to the
hooks. Other studies are focusing on
billfish, Pacific halibut, red drum and
striped bass.
Circle hooks' performance with the
catch and release of tuna is already well
known, increasing the number of fish
hooked in the lip to about 90 percent. If
you plan on eating your catch this spring,
however, you need more than just a circle
hook.
One important thing to
remember is that Atlantic bluefin
tuna are internationally protected,
so killing one requires a current
permit from the National Marine
Fisheries Service (NMFS). You'll
also need to find out if the quota is
still open for your gear category.
See the NMFS tuna Web site at
www.usatutia.com for more
information or to print out a permit
application.
Whether you plan to catch
and release your tuna or eat it, you
need to have the appropriate gear.
Atlantic bluefin tuna are large, fast
fish and require heavy equipment
and a specialized approach. Circle
hooks don't work well with bait
that is dragged through the water,
Bahen says, so most fishers chum
or "chunk" for tuna, throwing
chopped menhaden or other fish
into the water until tuna are
feeding vigorously. Similar
chunks threaded onto circle hooks will then
catch some of the tuna off guard.
Because tuna are such huge fish —
tuna weighing more than 600 pounds have
been caught off the North Carolina coast
— you must use a large hook to catch
them. Bahen recommends a 12/0 to 16/0
circle hook, and suggests matching the line
strength to the hook size. For a 12/0 hook,
he uses 150-pound line, while a 16/0 hook
demands a beefier 350-pound line.
Jim Bahen shows Carlos Fetteroff how to use the
heavy fishing gear.
26 HOLIDAY 1999
Researchers prepare
The tackle also has to be very heavy.
"You can't go bear hunting with a switch,"
Bahen cautions. "Smaller tackle will kill
the fish. They'll fight longer, and by the
time you reel them in, they'll be so tired
that it takes longer to resuscitate them, and
some mortality can occur." For battling
giant tuna he recommends 130 Interna-
tional reels, or other big reels capable of
holding 150-pound-testline.
The rods must also be mammoth:
unlimited class, the biggest rods that still
have line guides on them. Bent-butt rods
allow the end of the rod to lie closer to the
water, decreasing the effort required to
bring in the fish. When fishing for Atlantic
bluefin tuna, anglers are strapped to both
their rods and their chairs, so the giant fish
cannot pull them overboard.
To pull in such a feisty fish, Bahen
uses a 700-yard main line of 130- to 150-
pound nylon or
Dacron, which
has very little
stretch and lies
fiat on the reel.
Attached to the
main line is a
"top-shot" of 300
to 400-pound
monofilament,
followed by an
800-pound snap
swivel. Bahen has
also experimented
successfully with
the new fluorocar-
bon line as an
invisible leader.
Though expen-
sive, the fluoro-
carbon is popular
for making the
circle hook
and bait more
inconspicuous
to the fish.
. ... This year,
to tag a giant tuna. c , , ■ .
° ° fishers have two
chances to explore
catch-and-release tuna fishing. Bahen, who
serves on the steering committee of the first
National Symposium on Catch and Release
in Marine Recreational Fisheries, urges
anglers to attend. "We really want to
emphasize catch and release. It's easy to
catch more than you need."
The symposium, to be held Dec. 5-8 in
Virginia Beach, Va, will address hook and
release mortality, fisheries-management
issues, angler behavior and recreational
fishing ethics. In one session, presenters will
focus on fish catching, handling, tagging
and release practices that significantly affect
fish survival.
North Carolina fishers may be
particularly interested in new research
findings on the use of circle hooks in tuna,
billfish, sharks, striped bass and summer
flounder. Other topics include fish landing
and handling stress, swim bladder expan-
TH E
CATCH
sion problems, terminal tackle and other
gear options.
Charter captains, fishing tournament
organizers and club leaders are encouraged
to attend. Because the symposium will
address fish-discard mortality with the use
of rod-and-reel gear, representatives of the
commercial hook-and-line fisheries may
be interested as well.
For fishers who actually want to get
out on the water, this year also marks the
third annual Tag-A-Giant project, an effort
to coordinate anglers and scientists in the
study of bluefin tuna. In past years, after an
angler reeled in a tuna, surgeons implanted
an archival tag in its body cavity. The tag,
equipped with a microprocessor, gathered
information on the fish's activities until it
was captured again and the tag was
returned.
This year, "We're moving to a new
style of pop-up tag," says Bill Hitchcock,
director of Tag-A-Giant. "A larger class of
fish will also be tagged this year."
The pop-up satellite tags, which
detach from the fish after a specified length
of time, record information about the
tuna's depth, location in the ocean, and
internal and external temperatures. This
data will be important in future manage-
ment decisions.
In past years, returned data from a
simpler generation of satellite tags
indicated that a large percentage of the tuna
captured off Hatteras and Morehead City
live to swim another day, happy news for
conservation anglers. □
For more information about the
National Symposium on Catch and
Release in Marine Recreational Fisheries,
call Jim Bahen at 910/256-2083 or Jon
Lucy, Virginia Institute of Marine Science,
at 804/684-7166. You can also email Lucy
at lucy@vims.edu or see the symposium 's
Web site at www.vims.edu/adv/catch.
For more information on Tag-A-
Giant, see the program 's Web site at
www.tunaresearch.org/tagagiant.html or
contact Bill Hitchcock at 252/223-2066.
COASTWATCH 27
MARITIME
MORSELS
Holiday Festivities:
fi
Fish, Shrimp and Oysters
Brighten Traditional Meals
)liday meals are special
times. Seafood dishes are traditional fare
not only at the coast, but also for many
inland families who prefer the taste and
quick preparation time offish and shellfish.
To help you prepare for the 1 999
holiday gatherings — and to ring in the
year 2000 — we dipped into the Mariner's
Menu archives. The following recipes were
developed by Joyce Taylor, who retired in
1997 as North Carolina Sea Grant's
seafood education specialist.
Cruise through the selection and try
one or all. We offer an appetizer and a pilaf
featuring shellfish, as well as two fish
entrees.
And for those who want a splash of
seafood with their turkey dinner, we offer
recipes for oyster dressing and gravy.
FESTIVE SEAFOOD
SPREAD
• 1 pound backfin crabmeat
• 1/2 pound cooked shrimp
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground
white pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon paprika
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
• 1/4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
By Katie Mosher
Remove any cartilage or shell from
crabmeat. Chop shrimp coarsely. In
medium bowl, combine crab, shrimp,
mayonnaise, pepper, paprika parsley and
Tabasco. Chill well. Serve with assorted
crackers. Makes about three cups. Spread
may also be heated over boiling water and
served hot.
CREAMY FISH
WITH CRANBERRY SAUCE
• 1 pound skinless flounder
(or other lean) fillets
2 tablespoons margarine
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground
white pepper
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons dry sherry
1/2 can whole43eny cranberry sauce
Melt margarine in medium skillet
over medium heat. Stir in flour, salt, thyme
and pepper. Gradually stir in milk and
sherry. Cook, stirring constantly, until thick
and smooth.
Cut fish into serving-size pieces. Salt
lightly. Add to mixture in skillet. Heat to
boiling. Reduce heat to simmer. Cover and
cook until fish flakes easily with a fork,
about 10 minutes. Carefully lift fish onto
platter. Spoon sauce over fish. Surround
with cranberry sauce. Serves 4 to 6.
28 HOLIDAY 1999
MARITIME
MORSELS
ELEGANT HOLIDAY
FLOUNDER
• 2 pounds skinless flounder
(or other lean) fillets
• 1/4 pound shrimp,
peeled and chopped
• 1 1/2 tablespoons margarine
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1 1/2 cups half-and-half cream
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground
white pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
• 3/4 cup sour cream
• 1 1/2 cups cooked rice
• 1/2 cup toasted slivered almonds
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
• paprika
Melt margarine in medium saucepan
over medium heat. Stir in flour and mix
well. Add cream gradually, stirring
constantly. Add salt, pepper and nutmeg.
Cook, stirring constantly, until thick. Stir in
sour cream and shrimp. Remove from
heat.
Reserve half of shrimp sauce for
topping. Combine remaining sauce, rice,
1/4 cup almonds and parsley. Spread over
bottom of well-greased 12x8x2 baking
pan. Cut fish into serving size portions.
Arrange fish over rice mixture. Spread
reserved shrimp sauce over fish. Sprinkle
with 1/4 cup almonds and paprika. Bake at
350 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes or until
fish flakes easily. Serves 6 to 8.
OYSTER-MUSHROOM
DRESSING
• 1 pint standard oysters
• 1/2 cup margarine
• 1 pound coarsely chopped
fresh mushrooms
• 1 1/2 cups chopped celery,
including leaves
• 1 cup chopped onion
• 2 cups toasted bread cubes
• 1 14 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons poultry seasoning
• 1 14 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
• 2 eggs, beaten
Drain oysters. Melt margarine in large
skillet over medium heat. Saute mush-
rooms, celery and onion until tender. Place
in large bowl. Stir in bread cubes, parsley,
salt and poultry seasoning. Add eggs and
oysters and mix thoroughly. Place in well-
greased baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees
for 20 minutes or until done in center and
lightly browned. Makes about 6 cups.
OYSTER-MUSHROOM
GRAVY
• 1 pint standard oysters
• 6 tablespoons margarine
• 3 cups sliced fresh mushrooms
• 1/4 cup margarine
• 3 tablespoons flour
• 1/4 cup finely chopped green onion,
including tops
• oyster liquor plus enough chicken
broth to make 2 cups
• 1/4 cup dry white wine
• 1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Melt 6 tablespoons margarine in large
skillet over medium heat. Saute mush-
rooms until tender. Remove with slotted
spoon and set aside. Discard liquid.
In same skillet, melt 1/4 cup marga-
rine over low heat. Stir in flour and cook,
stirring constantly, until roux is rich brown,
about 10 to 15 minutes. Add onion. Blend
in broth and wine. Simmer, stirring
constantly, until thickened. Stir in
Worcestershire, salt and pepper. Return
mushrooms to skillet. Add oysters and
bring to simmering point. Simmer until
oysters are desired doneness. Remove
from heat and stir in parsley. Makes 3 to
4 cups.
SHRIMP PI LAI
• 1 pound medium shrimp,
peeled and deveined
• 4 slices bacon
• 1/2 cup finely chopped celery
• 2 tablespoons chopped green pepper
• 1 tablespoon flour
• 11/2 teaspoons salt
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground
black pepper
• 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon margarine
• 1 cup uncooked regular rice
• 2 2/3 cups water
Fry bacon in medium skillet over
medium heat. Remove bacon, crumble
and set aside. Reserve 2 tablespoons
bacon drippings in skillet. Saute celery
and green pepper until tender.
Combine flour, salt and pepper.
Dredge shrimp in mixture and add to
skillet. Stir in Worcestershire. Cover and
cook over low heat for 1 0 minutes,
stilting occasionally.
Melt margarine in medium
saucepan over medium heat. Add rice.
Cook over low heat until lightly
browned, stirring constantly. Add water
and bring to boil. Reduce heat and cover.
Simmer 20 minutes or until tender. Stir
rice into shrimp mixture and remove
from heat. Sprinkle with crumbled bacon.
Serves 4 to 6. □
COASTWATCH 29
STATE||RARYOF NORTH CAROLINA
3 3091 00767 5572
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