The Outer Banks

The history of Pamlico Sound is closely interwoven with the story of the Outer Banks. Because of the marshy quality of the mainland shore, few have settled there. By contrast, the Outer Banks have seen some of the Tar Heel State's most colorful incidents. Skippers cruising Pamlico Sound will find their trip enhanced by a knowledge of the special qualities of the Banks. A brief historical and cultural summary will be given here, but the most complete account of the history of the region is to be found in David Stick's The Outer Banks of North Carolina.

The Outer Banks long lay in a state of isolation. The Banks were not bridged from the mainland until 1931, and a paved road did not span the full length of the islands until 1952. This isolation has actually been a boon; not only have the Banks been largely spared the eyesores of rampant commercial development, but close-knit communities have survived with their own accent, customs, and folk heritage. Even with the recent influx of seasonal and permanent non-native residents, the "Outer Banker" is still readily identifiable. You may well meet some true Outer Bankers when cruising Pamlico Sound, and you will be richer for the experience.

Many and entertaining are the tall tales of Hatteras, Ocracoke, Nags Head, and other communities of the Banks. The courage and self-reliance of the Outer Banker as portrayed in these legends will stir the hearts of all who love the water. Charles Harry Whedbee chronicled many of these intriguing stories in his five books of coastal folklore. Those fine works are highly recommended to cruising boaters. Also, Ben Dixon MacNeill gives a penetrating look into the cultural character of the Banks in his two books, The Hatterasman and Sand Roots.

The Outer Banks have undergone a radical transformation in natural character since they were first sighted by early European explorers. In those days, the Banks were covered by dense forests. As early settlers cut trees to build their homes and ships, and as stock roamed at will grazing the land, the sand was no longer held in place by vegetation. The ever-present wind began to move the sand, piling it upon the remaining trees and killing them, which in turn caused more and more sand to be blown up and down the Banks. This sad process continued unabated until the 1930s. Except for Nags Head Woods and a small wooded area near the present-day village of Frisco, grass and scrub brush became the only cover on the Banks.

As part of President Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal programs, the Civilian Conservation Corps erected sand fences and planted new trees and grasses on the Outer Banks. The CCC's efforts and later work by the state of North Carolina were at first considered partially successful. In recent years, however, it has become apparent that these practices have actually served to weaken the structure of the Banks. The so-called overwash theory claims that before stabilization occurred, large storms washed sand from the ocean side of the Banks to the sound side. Thus, while the easterly side decayed, the shores facing the mainland were nourished. The Banks were slowly migrating to the west, but at least they were surviving. Now, with many dunes stabilized by grass and sand fences, storms do not usually overwash the Banks. Thus, the ocean shores seem to be eroding without any compensating buildup on the sound-side banks. While the overwash theory is still controversial, it does explain what seems to be happening on the Banks today. The Outer Banks are indeed a land in constant flux.

Over the years, the inlets on the Banks have also displayed a distressing tendency toward not staying put. As many as 24 inlets have opened and closed at one time or another in the recorded history of the Banks. Today, only three remain. With an exasperating unpredictability, cuts open, deepen, shoal, and sometimes close altogether. Historically, whenever a new inlet has opened and become deep, commerce has arisen in the area. And whenever a cut has shoaled and perhaps eventually closed, the prosperity of the region has become a thing of the past. One example of an inlet's influence on a coastal village can be seen in the abandoned town of Portsmouth on the southern shore of Ocracoke Inlet. Once the largest and most commercially important trading center on the Outer Banks, it is now a ghost town.

Today, there are 14 communities on the banks, but once there were many more. Some, such as Little Kinnakeet and Wash Woods, have faded into memory. Even the towns that remain are not named as they once were. When post offices were established along the Banks in the early part of the 20th century, the federal government showed an exasperating tendency to change the names of the villages without any apparent logic. Big Kinnakeet became Avon, for instance, and Chicamacomico became Rodanthe. The Cape became Buxton.

The founding fathers of many Outer Banks families came to the islands in a rather ignoble fashion. They were sailors who washed up on the beaches from their stricken craft and later showed an understandable aversion to returning to the open sea. Many settled on the Banks and came to love these lonely sand spits. Whether because of the region's long isolation or the English descent of many shipwrecked mariners, an Elizabethan accent continues to survive on the Banks. Fried seafood is "froid" seafood, and high tide is "hoi toide."

As early as 1794, the new American government realized the necessity of lighting the ship-killing shoals of the Outer Banks. The idea was to place a series of readily identifiable lights from Cape Henry, Virginia, to Cape Lookout so that the offshore sailor could easily track his progress. In the early days, many sailcraft traveling northward came perilously close to the great Diamond Shoals by following the Gulf Stream to increase their speed. This rendered the need for lighting the North Carolina coast acute. Unfortunately, the early lights were neither tall enough nor bright enough, and new ones had to be built. Many lighthouses have come and gone since the first light at Cape Hatteras went into service in 1802. Today, five lights remain in operation on the Outer Banks  — at Corolla, Bodie Island, Cape Hatteras, Ocracoke, and Cape Lookout.

The Cape Hatteras Lighthouse proudly stands 208 feet above the ocean and is the tallest masonry lighthouse in America. Tragically, the sea is cutting ever closer to the base of this magnificent sentinel. A campaign is currently under way in North Carolina to save the light, but unless action comes quickly, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse may become only a memory. For many years, visitors were allowed to climb the lighthouse for a magnificent view. Then, for almost a decade, the light was closed due to structural problems. Recent repairs have allowed visitors to once again make the long, long climb up the spiral stairs to the dizzying catwalk circling the lighthouse's crown. Even though the closest port of call for cruising boaters is 13 miles from the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, I urge all visitors to make every effort to view the light before it is too late!

According to David Stick, piracy seriously affected North Carolina for only a 12-month span around 1718, but this short period left an indelible print on the Banks. Stories involving Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard, are numerous and absorbing. Near-superhuman feats have been credited to this rascal. He is said to have lived at various times in Bath, Hatteras, and Ocracoke. Tales of Blackbeard's buried treasure are still told over more than a few campfires along the islands. Many people have searched for Teach's treasure, but no one has ever admitted to finding it.

The Outer Banks can lay claim to many other accomplishments and distinctive qualities. The Wright brothers first flew near Kitty Hawk in 1903, ushering in the era of aviation. For many years, wild ponies, possibly the descendants of shipwrecked Spanish steeds, wandered the Banks at will. Today, they can still be seen in the "pony pens" of Ocracoke. In 1848, the United States Lifesaving Service began its service on the Outer Banks, which continued until 1950. Tradition claims that no member of any lifesaving crew-or any rescued sailor-was ever lost from a surf boat.

By now, you have probably begun to realize that I could write volumes about the Outer Banks. Read all you can about the history and culture of the Banks before visiting the area. Your trip will be much the better for the effort.