Something different: An Oak Island vacation
By
Rory Ryan-hcpress@cinci.rr.com
A friend of mine has always insisted that a hard-working individual needs at least two weeks’ vacation each year just to recharge the biological battery.
I can’t argue with that.
But I can’t always get away for two consecutive weeks, either. As the Rolling Stones say, You can’t always get what you want.
If you haven’t guessed by now, this week, I’m out of town. Don’t worry, though. The only locally owned and operated newspaper in Highland County has been left in capable hands.
Our vice president, Angie Matticks, is in charge while I’m gone. Of course, the former Hillsboro city auditor probably thinks she’s in charge. But, then, Lisa Wharton knows as much about the newspaper business as anyone. Maybe she should be in charge. For the more energetic, under-30 professionals, we’ve got Stephen Forsha and Brandy Chandler. They’re pretty capable in their own right.
And if anything really difficult or problematic occurs while I’m away, we can always call on our vast and diversified support staff. (I’d mention all of them by name, but they’d probably scare our more gentle readers. One of our board members will be on standby, just in case!)
So, as it is, anything that might go less than perfect this week is simply not my fault.
Speaking of things that really are not my fault, I posed the following comma-laced question to a few of my closest friends this past week:
“If, after playing five games of basketball at the Hillsboro City Park in 95-degree heat, on blacktop, no less, at the same court where I once ripped my Achilles’ tendon courtesy of Brian Perkins, who may have intentionally tripped me, and if, after winning all five games, possibly because my body odor was such that no one on the other team really wanted to guard me, I drove home afterward and removed all clothing, such as it were: a pair of gym shoes, two socks, cotton shorts, (well, yes, drawers), and a soaked T-shirt, and then before entering my humble abode, walked directly to the outside faucet with attached garden hose, and took an impromptu outside shower, and if, a neighbor happened to pull down the driveway at the same time, well, WOULD I BE WRONG?!
I respect your opinions and need an honest answer. (Please say no.)
But as I was saying, I am on vacation. Or “holleeday,” as they say in the old country.
This day finds the Ryans on Oak Island in North Carolina, not far from Cape Fear, which was a great movie, by the way.
Oak Island, North Carolina shouldn’t be confused with Oak Island, Nova Scotia which, I learned at a recent county commissioners’ meeting, may be the site of buried pirates’ treasure from the late 1700s.
North Carolina’s Outer Banks have been a great diversion for us for many years. We’ve been to the northernmost areas like Knotts Island and Currituck, just south of Virginia Beach, past Duck, Kill Devil Hills, Nags Head, Bodie Island, Rodanthe, Salvo, Avon, Buxton, and all the way to Beaufort, near Cape Lookout. But Oak Island is new territory for us.
Well, almost. Pam and I have been to Ocean Isle Beach, just to the south, and we’ve all been to Myrtle Beach not too far away. But only two of us have traveled the entire length of the North Carolina Outer Banks, and that’s Meghan and her old man.
A couple of years ago, while we were renting a house in Frisco, N.C., Meghan and I left Cape Hatteras on a ferry to Ocracoke Island, drove south on Route 12, then caught another ferry to Cedar Island, picked up Route 70 all the way to Beaufort, a beautiful North Carolina coastal town, and promptly asked a local where we could find Carrot Island.
In case you don’t know, Carrot Island is famous for its wild horses that like to swim in the Pamlico Sound.
Meghan wanted to see the horses and maybe take a few photos. The locals said this trip couldn’t be done in a single day. But I’m not from North Carolina.
We left Hatteras at 5 a.m. and caught the first ferry to Ocracoke. Then, we caught the first boat that lets cars and people on it and headed toward Cedar Island. There was a Burger King about halfway down Route 70 and we stopped for breakfast. We’d brought along sleeping bags and personal hygiene items, just in case we couldn’t make the return trip that day.
And, lest I forget to tell you, the seas were rough that day, my friends.
When we at last reached Beaufort, N.C., tired, and uncertain of the next ferry ride, or boat that lets cars and people on it, I happened to ask a young lady on the waterfront: “How far is it to Carrot Island?”
“It’s right there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder about 100 yards across the bay. (Heck, I thought, I could swim to Carrot Island.)
But we spent the $20 and took a little flat-bottom 16-footer across the inlet, over to Carrot Island. We quickly learned one thing that the tourism magazines and websites don’t tell you about the island: Wear a good pair of walking shoes or hiking boots. The island is covered in small, cactus-like plants that leave those in sandals or flip-flops with lots of cuts.
We made it back to Hatteras on the same day, by the way, just catching the last boat from Cedar Island with about 15 minutes to spare.
Oak Island is a barrier island in Brunswick County, N.C. Wikipedia informs us the island has been inhabited since the early 19th century; Fort Caswell was built on its eastern end in 1838. The remainder of the island was developed beginning in the late 1930s.
The island was nearly wiped out by Hurricane Hazel in 1954. In 1999, Hurricane Floyd pounded the island, as it did all along the coast.
As of this advanced writing, Hurricane Emily may or may not reach the area. But by the time you read this, it probably won’t matter much to either one of us.
North Carolina beach vacations have always been good to us and we’ll have to trust that this year will be (was) no different.
I’ll let you know next week...
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]
I can’t argue with that.
But I can’t always get away for two consecutive weeks, either. As the Rolling Stones say, You can’t always get what you want.
If you haven’t guessed by now, this week, I’m out of town. Don’t worry, though. The only locally owned and operated newspaper in Highland County has been left in capable hands.
Our vice president, Angie Matticks, is in charge while I’m gone. Of course, the former Hillsboro city auditor probably thinks she’s in charge. But, then, Lisa Wharton knows as much about the newspaper business as anyone. Maybe she should be in charge. For the more energetic, under-30 professionals, we’ve got Stephen Forsha and Brandy Chandler. They’re pretty capable in their own right.
And if anything really difficult or problematic occurs while I’m away, we can always call on our vast and diversified support staff. (I’d mention all of them by name, but they’d probably scare our more gentle readers. One of our board members will be on standby, just in case!)
So, as it is, anything that might go less than perfect this week is simply not my fault.
Speaking of things that really are not my fault, I posed the following comma-laced question to a few of my closest friends this past week:
“If, after playing five games of basketball at the Hillsboro City Park in 95-degree heat, on blacktop, no less, at the same court where I once ripped my Achilles’ tendon courtesy of Brian Perkins, who may have intentionally tripped me, and if, after winning all five games, possibly because my body odor was such that no one on the other team really wanted to guard me, I drove home afterward and removed all clothing, such as it were: a pair of gym shoes, two socks, cotton shorts, (well, yes, drawers), and a soaked T-shirt, and then before entering my humble abode, walked directly to the outside faucet with attached garden hose, and took an impromptu outside shower, and if, a neighbor happened to pull down the driveway at the same time, well, WOULD I BE WRONG?!
I respect your opinions and need an honest answer. (Please say no.)
But as I was saying, I am on vacation. Or “holleeday,” as they say in the old country.
This day finds the Ryans on Oak Island in North Carolina, not far from Cape Fear, which was a great movie, by the way.
Oak Island, North Carolina shouldn’t be confused with Oak Island, Nova Scotia which, I learned at a recent county commissioners’ meeting, may be the site of buried pirates’ treasure from the late 1700s.
North Carolina’s Outer Banks have been a great diversion for us for many years. We’ve been to the northernmost areas like Knotts Island and Currituck, just south of Virginia Beach, past Duck, Kill Devil Hills, Nags Head, Bodie Island, Rodanthe, Salvo, Avon, Buxton, and all the way to Beaufort, near Cape Lookout. But Oak Island is new territory for us.
Well, almost. Pam and I have been to Ocean Isle Beach, just to the south, and we’ve all been to Myrtle Beach not too far away. But only two of us have traveled the entire length of the North Carolina Outer Banks, and that’s Meghan and her old man.
A couple of years ago, while we were renting a house in Frisco, N.C., Meghan and I left Cape Hatteras on a ferry to Ocracoke Island, drove south on Route 12, then caught another ferry to Cedar Island, picked up Route 70 all the way to Beaufort, a beautiful North Carolina coastal town, and promptly asked a local where we could find Carrot Island.
In case you don’t know, Carrot Island is famous for its wild horses that like to swim in the Pamlico Sound.
Meghan wanted to see the horses and maybe take a few photos. The locals said this trip couldn’t be done in a single day. But I’m not from North Carolina.
We left Hatteras at 5 a.m. and caught the first ferry to Ocracoke. Then, we caught the first boat that lets cars and people on it and headed toward Cedar Island. There was a Burger King about halfway down Route 70 and we stopped for breakfast. We’d brought along sleeping bags and personal hygiene items, just in case we couldn’t make the return trip that day.
And, lest I forget to tell you, the seas were rough that day, my friends.
When we at last reached Beaufort, N.C., tired, and uncertain of the next ferry ride, or boat that lets cars and people on it, I happened to ask a young lady on the waterfront: “How far is it to Carrot Island?”
“It’s right there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder about 100 yards across the bay. (Heck, I thought, I could swim to Carrot Island.)
But we spent the $20 and took a little flat-bottom 16-footer across the inlet, over to Carrot Island. We quickly learned one thing that the tourism magazines and websites don’t tell you about the island: Wear a good pair of walking shoes or hiking boots. The island is covered in small, cactus-like plants that leave those in sandals or flip-flops with lots of cuts.
We made it back to Hatteras on the same day, by the way, just catching the last boat from Cedar Island with about 15 minutes to spare.
Oak Island is a barrier island in Brunswick County, N.C. Wikipedia informs us the island has been inhabited since the early 19th century; Fort Caswell was built on its eastern end in 1838. The remainder of the island was developed beginning in the late 1930s.
The island was nearly wiped out by Hurricane Hazel in 1954. In 1999, Hurricane Floyd pounded the island, as it did all along the coast.
As of this advanced writing, Hurricane Emily may or may not reach the area. But by the time you read this, it probably won’t matter much to either one of us.
North Carolina beach vacations have always been good to us and we’ll have to trust that this year will be (was) no different.
I’ll let you know next week...
Rory Ryan is publisher and editor of The Highland County Press.[[In-content Ad]]