Archive for category: Blog

How can I find a whelk?

Where can I find beach glass?

What’s the best time to go shelling?

I was asked those questions, or questions very similar to those, over and over again when Dave and I owned the Cape Hatteras Motel. And for good reason. Shells and pieces of glass are beautiful, colorful, exotic, and, best of all, free! It just takes time, patience, and a good eye. But there are no real rules of beachcombing. Most of the time, great finds are pure luck, being in the right place at the right time.

That being said, there are a few things to keep in mind to improve your odds of finding that perfect beach souvenir to take back home.

1. If you are on the island during a storm, try to get out on the beach once it is safe to do so. The ocean gets pretty churned up very easily. It doesn’t need to be a hurricane or even a nor’easter. A passing low-pressure system that creates swells will bring things up from the bottom and deposit them along the shoreline. Yes, many things might be broken, but shells are pretty hardy and the larger ones will appear intact.
2. It is often said that the “best” time to find shells is at low tide. In my experience, I have found wonderful treasures at high tide, low tide, and at all times in between. Just after a high tide, you can find items deposited higher along the shoreline. And at low tide, don’t forget to check that high tide line as well, as many people don’t even look there. Low tide doesn’t always occur right at sunrise. I believe it is more important just to be there, one of the first people on the beach in the morning, to have the best chances of finding something special. This is especially true during the summer when more people are out walking every day.
3. The more you go out looking for shells, the more likely you are to find something. Hatteras is not Sanibel Island where shells are everywhere, all the time. To find a unique, intact shell here is really something special. Persistence pays off. Yes, there are some wild days when you can go out and see whelks, or starfish, or moon shells in abundance. But most days aren’t like that, so just being present every day increases your chances of finding the perfect shell.
4. And speaking of perfection, don’t be afraid to pick up a shell that is “almost” perfect. Nearly all shells have some sort of crack or hole or flaw in them, but I see those “imperfections” as part of a shell’s history, and makes them even more special.
5. If you’re looking for glass, you must train your eye. It is challenging to look for big whelks and tiny pieces of glass at the same time. Glass likes to reside in gravel beds, but that’s not to say you can’t find pieces of glass washed in all on their own. On Hatteras brown is the most common color, followed by clear and green. Blue is a bit tougher, and if you should find red, yellow or lavender, go buy a lottery ticket!
6. Be a respectful beachcomber and take an extra bag for trash or those pieces of glass which really aren’t smooth enough to be beach glass, but could be sharp enough to cut someone’s foot.
7. And if you find a shell of any kind where an animal is “home,” please throw it back into the ocean.

In my books, my characters are often found taking walks along the beach. The combined experience of the sea, salt, sand, and sun can wash away anxiety, bring clarity of thought, enhance an enjoyment of nature, and create a real sense of inner peace. Not to mention it’s great exercise. And if you find a shell or two or a piece of glass, that’s really a bonus. Don’t let shelling or glass hunting stress you out. You’ll find the ocean will surely reward you in its own time!

I am often asked just how much of “Storm Season” – my first novel – is based on real life. It’s an interesting question because I believe most writers include something of their own reality in their books. There’s an old adage, “write what you know” which is why my books are about life on Hatteras Island. It is what I know.

To answer that first question, yes, there is a bit of my own personal experience in the book. Friends and family know that my husband, Dave, and I met as teenagers when we were both vacationing in Buxton. I came from the Pittsburgh area and he came from northern Virginia. Our families happened to choose the same spot over the same timeframe for a number of years. We got to know each other during the summers of 1971 and 1972, and then we went our separate ways.

For me, that was going back home, finishing high school, graduating from college, and getting on with a new life, family, and varied careers that took me to South Carolina, Illinois, Colorado, and around the globe. Dave’s family bought a motel in Hatteras and so he settled in on the island, running the Cape Hatteras Motel for more than 50 years. We reconnected when I came back to take care of my mom in 2015. She and my dad, who passed in 2011, had retired to the island in the early 90s. So, getting back together with a beach boyfriend after forty-some years is similar to what occurred with Susan and Chris in “Storm Season.” But the similarities end there, as the circumstances in their lives after they parted as young people are purely fiction, and not anything that Dave and I experienced.

What is very real are the experiences of preparing for hurricanes, living through a hurricane, and then cleaning up afterwards. In the book I mention Susan and Jo hearing the wind whistle. If anyone asks me to describe a hurricane, that’s the first thing I think of. That sound is ominous and unsettling. During a storm it is relentless.

There are the nerve-wracking days in the run-up to a storm. Today we listen to forecasts from any number of media – tradition and social. But back in the 70s hurricane forecasting was in its infancy, and so Dave shared a lot of his experiences about storm prep in those days to inform what Susan experienced.

I must admit the first time I saw “overwash” at our motel (when the ocean and/or the sound come over Highway 12) I cried. I had no idea how we would ever clean up the mess. Sand gets everywhere and, unlike snow in the north, sand doesn’t melt. But going through storms, as I did the eight years I worked with Dave, I learned a tremendous amount about the resilience of the people on this island. Almost as soon as the winds die down everyone is out and about, surveying damage, and working together to begin the clean-up. It can seem impossible at first, and sometimes damage can mean long-term issues. But, most of the time, it’s simply manual labor with the help of some big trucks that can pick up debris, haul sand, and get it off the highway.

It’s also important to mention that while named hurricanes garner most of the attention, fall and winter nor’easters can do as much, if not more, damage. One only has to witness what occurred in Buxton this past fall, and in Rodanthe in the recent past, to understand how vulnerable our coastline is.

And finally, there is one aspect of the book that is fiction but I wish it would come to pass. We don’t have a winter boat parade on the island. It could be that the weather is way too iffy, maybe many boats are in storage, or just not used during the winter months. We do have a traditional Christmas parade that is well-attended and a highlight of every December. But somehow, I wish we could see the boats all decked out in lights just cruising around the docks for the holidays.

We often turn facts into fiction. Maybe this time, fiction could become fact! We’ll have to wait and see.

When the calendar turns to March 1, it means several things. Personally, it means my birthday month is over! But that’s of no consequence to anyone but me, really. More importantly, it’s the beginning of meteorological spring, and that’s a wake-up call for Hatteras Island. For those of you who visit just during the summer or during the shoulder seasons, you might not think too much about what happens when you’re not here!

It’s amazing to watch the island rouse from its off-season slumber. It occurs gradually, but it definitely happens. It’s in the little things. It’s the extra minutes of daylight, and more days in the 60s rather than the 40s and 50s.

Driving past the high school, the young women are out on the field for softball practice. The marquee at the school suddenly announces baseball, softball and soccer schedules.

There are signs at nearly every place of business announcing help wanted – for servers, for housekeepers, for just about any island seasonal position you can name. And the restaurants are returning – slowly but surely. Some will re-open at the beginning of the month, some around St. Patrick’s Day, and some closer to the end of the month. But with Easter being in early April this year, most want to be open at least a few weeks ahead of time, just to “get the rust off.”

There’s sometimes the sad realization that a few places won’t re-open. The long off-season from the end of October to March brings about changes that aren’t fully understood until it’s time for the new season to begin. Tempus fugit.

Many of the clean-up efforts and projects undertaken during the fall and winter are wrapping up. Storms took out more houses in north Buxton over the past months, and the debris clean-up is on-going. There are still piles to be carted off the island, but they are becoming smaller and fewer. The major project of the electric cooperative is wrapping up as well, and the staging area is now almost completely devoid of pallets, trucks, and pilings. By summer, most, if not all of this, will be gone. Many visitors will be unaware of what occurred just a few months earlier.

Daffodils are beginning to bloom, bringing some welcome color. Azaleas won’t be far behind. And for anyone who has spring allergies, an onset of sneezing, more than anything else, is a harbinger of the change of seasons.

There might be – actually probably will be – a few more unseasonably cool or even cold days. But there is no doubt that the temperature trend is upward. Folks can walk on the beach without cumbersome winter apparel. A few brave folks are already barefooted in the sand. On a very warm day, one might even see a few bathing suits out and about, especially if there’s no wind. And the anglers are reappearing on the hunt for drum, or maybe even big blues.

You can almost feel the island stretching and yawning as it moves out of its slumber.

One important note for this year. Our lighthouse won’t be wearing her stripes again this summer, as repair and renovation work continues. But she’s still standing tall, scaffolding and all, ready to welcome visitors back to their piece of paradise.

For those of us who live here year ‘round, we know there’s two more months until the speed limits change. That’s the real indicator things are about to be in full swing. Until then, we’ll enjoy this gentle wake-up time as we ease into a new season here on Hatteras Island.

There’s a company that advertises on television, known as “The Real Real.”

This blogpost has nothing to do with that company, but I do like the name. It reminds me of another, similar phrase, “the real deal.” And, in turn, both of those make me think of a question I used to hear when I worked the front desk at our motel, or even now, at book signings where I meet visitors from all over.

“What’s it REALLY like to live here?”

Or this statement, followed by a question. “This place is paradise. Isn’t it?”

Hatteras, like any place, has its glorious moments, but also has those that fall short in the weather department. But there is no doubt, on a summer day with plenty of sunshine, warm breezes, and a calm ocean, it’s hard to beat. That Hatteras is what I’ve always enjoyed capturing with my photography.

Make no mistake, I’m an amateur. But my father was an artist and an exceptional photographer. I’d like to think I learned a few tips from him as I watched him curate photos and slides over the years. I often think he’d be absolutely amazed at the images you can now take with an iPhone. I’m sure he’d find AI both a blessing and a curse, as I do.

I’ve lived on the island now for eleven years. In that time, I have taken literally thousands of photographs. Running the social media for the motel, I tried to post every single day. Some days that was really easy to do. A walk along the beach would present any number of great shots. On other days, when the ocean decided to make its way through our parking lot, across Highway 12, and onto the sound-side, it was more challenging. But I believed then, and I still do believe, that visitors and folks who don’t know the Outer Banks – and especially our island – need to see it in all of its moods and phases. You can’t really gain an appreciation for those gorgeous picture post-card summer days without knowing that there are nor’easters and tropical storms and hurricanes that bring storm tide and misery.

Which brings me back to the “real deal.” I’m going to add a gallery section to this website. To start with I will feature some of my favorite shots of the island over the years. But if, and when, we have less-than-optimal conditions, I’ll share those as well.

For readers who have visited here or for those who actually live here, I am sure these shots will resonate with you. And for readers who have never been, perhaps it will help you envision what Susan, JoBell, Dare, Jenni, Caleb, and all the other characters experience throughout my novels. It is my hope that in the gallery you will be able to experience Hatteras Island as it is year ‘round. In other words, you’ll see “The Real Deal.”