Ocracoke

This view across the harbor of Ocracoke Light was taken from the waterfront at the entrance to the visitor center. Pat had gone inside to find a map so we can find all the village sights. The port of Ocracoke was established in 1715, 130 years after Sir Walter Raleigh's flagship, Tiger, ran aground on a sand bar and landed on the island for repairs. The harbor, now called Silver Lake, was once called Cockle Creek.

This similar view with a wider angle includes a visitor's pier on the left, the lighthouse in the center, and pilings at the entrance to the ferry terminal on the right. The town of Ocracoke was recognized in 1753 and was populated by 20 or 30 families. During the American Revolution, many of the supplies for the Continental Army were shipped to Ocracoke for transfer in lighter craft to the mainland. The Royal Navy chose not to guard the inlets because of the hazards to shipping off Hatteras and the Outer Banks.

This lovely sailboat, Papillon, is tied up in an ideal spot with the amenities of the village off to the far right, the ferry terminal also right, and the harbor entrance straight ahead. The lighthouse is out of sight, about 90° off to my left.

This is a pleasant view of the waterfront at the foot of the lighthouse. Wouldn't it be nice to spend a couple of weeks a year here? The original lighthouse was built in 1798 on Shell Castle Rock abreast Ocracoke Inlet and was destroyed by lightning in 1818.

Here's another shot of Papillon and the Silver Lake harbor entrance, designated on our map of Ocracoke as "the ditch". Of course you know, when I finish the blog posts for this trip, I'm going to have to go back and add some seagulls and pelicans to this picture. . .

You can't imagine how startling the red steel roof of this building was. (I presume it's the light keeper's residence.) The base of the tower is hidden in every view except this one. The simplicity of the design and the bright whitewash suggest that's all you'll ever get. You wander all over the village and never get a hint of the color till you arrive here. This lighthouse was built in 1823 and is the oldest one on the east coast of the United States still in operation. It's also the shortest of North Carolina's lighthouses, and can be seen for 14 miles.

We'd already seen "the British cemetery", where four unknown British sailors are buried (their ship was sunk by German torpedoes during WWII) when we found the lighthouse, so we decided to eat lunch at Dajio (which was The Pelican when we were here in 2002) before heading to the ferry. When we got there we came face-to-face with the ferry schedule again, so deployed to the beach just east of the village to wait, and perhaps catch another nap.

This last shot of the harbor - from "the ditch" - suggests how pleasant our short stay had been. The weather certainly couldn't have been better.

Our last good view of Ocracoke and its lighthouse, as we headed for Cedar Island, Morehead City, and the interior. . .

Leaving Hatteras

Well, after photographing the sunrise and taking my last shots of Cape Hatteras light, I went back to the motel to find Pat and have breakfast. That done, we were ready to leave Hatteras Island and charge into our second day on the Outer Banks.

But we soon learned that we had to conform to someone else's timetable. That wasn't hard. Pat had not gotten up as early as I had, but he had gotten up early as well. (In fact, he walked to the beach while I was gone, but his camera was in my pickup so he's got no documentation. That's his story and he sticking with it.) Waiting for the ferry would provide us with an opportunity to nap.

We were the first customers at Hatteras Landing and parked at the head of the line. We were scrutinized - at least I was - by the local security guru acting, I'm sure, on orders from Homeland Security. I didn't mind, except for the slightly rude comment he made about my drivers license picture. We both managed to snooze a bit while we were waiting, but it was such a beautiful day I wandered around taking pictures as well. While I was setting up this first one, I was verbally accosted by a security minion, "STEP BACK BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE, Sir." I kept my mouth shut as I stepped back across the unnoticed line, but I was thinking, "Relax, lady, this is a camera not an RPG."

I'm glad they're concerned about security, but that struck me as a bit much. . .

As Gillian will tell you - she and I took the initial peek at my pictures the following week in Atlanta - I took an inordinate number of bird pictures on this trip. I love the pelicans, and some of the seagulls look great, but anyone who's ever watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds can get a little nervous when they start congregating in ever larger groups.

We tried for a while to figure out what this building was, a private home or maybe a bed and breakfast? It had a great location on the point overlooking the landing and, though it didn't really put me off, I'd have to say the architecture is. . . unconstrained. I'd assumed that lovely bird showing off its wingspan was a pelican until I got the pictures loaded on my computer and saw it was a goose. Not a Canada goose with a white chin, but a goose nonetheless.

Eventually, we boarded "the free ferry" and left Hatteras Island for a 45 minute voyage to Ocracoke Island. Lots of birds, of course, but I shot several pictures of this group on Buoy 24 as we passed. What interested me was that, for the whole time I was watching, that one bird hovered over the others in the vain hope that they'd make room for him (or her). When you consider all the open space on the rest of the rail, you've got to wonder what was so interesting to them on the SRO side of the buoy.

I'm not sure who the folks in the speedboat were but, with Alfred Hitchcock already on my mind, I think they were tempting fate.

I figure this is the avian version of the Hatteras to Ocracoke Air Races. I don't know if they have air races here, but maybe I ought to consider it. . .

Here's our opposite number, the northbound Ocracoke to Hatteras ferry, Cape Point. I wonder where all her obligatory birds are. The only one I see is one of our southbound birds.

Having transited Hatteras Inlet we were overtaken by these two low-flying pelicans as we prepared to turn into the north landing on Ocracoke. I wonder what they're expecting to find on Ocracoke that they couldn't have found on Hatteras. . .

This diptych was kind of an experiment. I saw one on Laurel Daniels oil painting blog the day I was sorting through my Ocracoke pictures and decided I should try one. I don't know what the diptych rules are, so I made up my own: both pictures should be able to stand alone and/or be displayed together. This view of Silver Lake harbor and Ocracoke Light qualifies, I think. (It was easy though; they're both from the same picture.)

Morning Sun on Cape Hatteras Light

When the morning Sun had cleared the cloud banks out at sea, and I couldn't sit on my rock on the beach any longer, and I started thinking about breakfast, I turned around to see what the lighthouse look like the morning sun. . .

 I guess it's okay to admit that these pictures are not presented in the same sequence in which they were shot. This first one was taken on the way to the pickup and was actually my last shot of the tower. I'd moved several feet to my right to clear the dune and get an unobstructed view, lest the sea oats screw up my shot.

These two were taken from same spot. I just zoomed out for the upper one and zoomed in for the lower one. In the originals, there was an extra shot very similar to the lower one. I discarded that because the lighthouse wasn't in focus. Then, when I was studying the one I had planned to post, I was really annoyed by the sea oats which weren't in focus. I could have just dropped the picture altogether, but tower in the first one was really sharp, so I decided to try to salvage it (i.e., the picture below is a composite of the tower from one picture and the landscape from another).

Likewise, these two shots were taken from the same spot, looking southeast from near the "old" lighthouse location. No trickery here; I just couldn't pass up the early morning light on the sand dunes and sea oats before I left.

Clicking Away

For those of you who couldn't find the "comment" link next to the email icon, I take it you're checking out the post on the automatic notification email. When you get one of those notifications from "Forty Years or so. . .", delete the email and go to the blog itself on your web browser. The pictures and comments are/were the same as the email version but the email has probably not been through all the editing iterations the website has - and the web presentation is so much more pleasing.

*****

Once again, it's about the light interacting with the surf - and having a good battery and gigabytes of storage for your pictures. . .

Just beyond the breakers there are a couple of surfers - two in the picture above, one below - who until this morning I had classed as pelicans. I'm sure they'll be pleased to know they've had their "human" status restored.

I like the detail picked up in the foreground now that the sun's higher, but it's gotten too high now to be shooting directly into it.

Sun's Up

You might wonder why this shot made it to the Cape Hatteras Sunrise Series when you can't actually see the sun. Well, after spending all morning sitting on a rock on the beach in the dark taking pictures of sandpipers I couldn't even see, I figured I'd better stretch this out a little. It wouldn't do, after all the buildup, to have one sunrise shot and say, "That's it". Sunrise is, after all, a process. And the process starts when the sun peeks over the horizon, not the cloud bank. So, even though the sun is still essentially hidden by the clouds, there's little doubt - in my mind - it's cleared the horizon. And that's why this shot made it into the Cape Hatteras Sunrise Series.

Seriously, from the first peek till the sun's cleared the cloud bank, it's all about the changing light on the surf. Just for grins, why don't you all choose your favorite from these five shots and let me know which one you chose by leaving a comment

Click the word "comment" below (to the left of the email envelope); tell me which picture you like best and whether or not you think it was worth my getting up at 5:30 and heading for the beach.

The Jetty

The jetty in these pictures is one of several, a past attempt to control beach erosion that I had mentioned earlier. At the bottom of the page is a public domain photo I found online that shows the lighthouse at its old site, with two nearby jetties. The point of view is looking northeast, and "my" jetty the southern one.

This shot of the jetty was fairly dark and consequently had very little color. I brightened it a little, which gave me the detail I was looking for in the foreground but the lack of color bothered me a bit - in comparison to the other pictures. Instead of increasing the color saturation, however, I decreased it even more leaving only a hint of color left in the sea and the sky. It's just odd enough to make you study the picture for a moment or two.

Here, I like the sharp detail of the jetty and the blurred motion of the surf. And we've even got a little color in this one. Originally, the pink horizontal band in the middle of the clouds had me confused. Studying this picture, however, I see that the lower cloud bank (on the horizon) is farther away than the upper string of clouds which is much nearer and shows more detail.

I haven't quite figured this one out yet - why the sea seems to blend into the clouds in the distance when, in the previous shots, there was a clear horizon line. Whatever happened, happened while I was trying to catch the splash at the near end of the jetty and passed unnoticed at the time. That's what I like. . . pictures that give you something to think about.

Well, clearly the sun has now cleared the cloud banks and I have a horizon line again. I like how the morning sun colors the spray above the breakers as well as the jetty itself. You can almost feel the warmth of the sun in this picture, but the fact of the matter is that it wasn't really particularly chilly even before the sun rose.

Tomorrow: the actual sunrise.

*****

This is the Air Force photo I found online, showing the lighthouse at the pre-1999 site with the two beach erosion jetties.

The Light of Dawn

These first two shots were taken about 10 minutes apart, the one below about 5 minutes before the sun broke out above the cloud bank. It's really amazing how much things change in such a short amount of time. By the time these two pictures were taken I wasn't alone on the beach anymore. The first surfer of the day showed up about 10 minutes before the first picture, followed quickly by a couple who just wanted to walk on the beach at sunrise. By the time the event was "over", there were probably 15 people around. (I guess they all had checked what time sunrise was.) But I was already set up when they arrived and, much to my surprise, not a single person walked in front of my camera. There was some talking, but that bordered on a whisper - everyone seemed to be displaying almost a reverence for the mood of the moment and an eagerness for the show was about to begin.

It was finally light enough to pick out the sandpipers at the edge of the water. I like both of these pictures very much (though the one below is overexposed) because the birds, for the most part, remained still as I took the pictures while the movement in the surf reflected the slow shutter speed I was using.

The last picture is kind of bonus. I saw something moving out in the water but couldn't tell what it was until I zoomed in with my telephoto lens and saw they were porpoises. I've seen porpoises at sea several different times in my life, but this is the first time I've ever had a camera close at hand when they graced us with their presence.

A Waning Crescent

Well, this series is kind of an extra treat if you will. As I mentioned before, my plan was to get up and photograph the sunrise on Cape Hatteras. But of course, that was about the extent of my planning. I didn't bother to find out when sunrise was, though Pat and I agreed it was probably around 7 o'clock. I set my alarm for 5:30; my thinking was that would give me time to shower and still give me plenty of time to get set up on the beach. I'd just look out the window and check the sky to determine when to leave for the beach.

With my first peek out the window I was presented with a beautiful rising crescent moon and thought, "It doesn't really matter when sunrise is; I need to get out there and shoot the moon anyway." So, I gathered my gear and beat feet for the beach.

Trust me, I was out there by myself for a long time, but it was glorious. I hadn't taken any real time exposures since I was in Adak in 1969-70, so I was doing this on the fly - in the dark - and, while there were some miscues, I was very pleased with the overall results.

Of course, you take what you can get and, when you're doing it in the dark, you're sometimes surprised by the results. In these last two shots, besides the moon I got a group of sandpipers that I didn't even see till much later. A  "phases of the moon calendar" online tells me this was a waning crescent moon (a day or two before the new moon).

Cape Hatteras Light

The commentary on this post will be brief since all five pictures are of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, the iconic lighthouse in North America, if not the world.

Pat and I wandered around till we could get a good shot - or two - from the west with late afternoon lighting. It's a pretty raggedy-ass foreground when you study it, but the detail in the lighthouse tower is good. The weather continues to be great, the temperature wonderful.

This is a better foreground certainly, and it's close enough for great detail on the tower. On top of it all, the sky behind the tower is Carolina Blue and the lighting is. . . perfect.

This shot's about as good as I can do from the lighthouse parking lot this late in the afternoon. I'll have to give Pat credit for the composition. By the time I got my camera out, he was across the parking lot clicking away. Note the tourists on the tower catwalk. I do like the star-shaped highlights from the windshields in the parking lot. They're serendipitous.

After I took the previous photos, we went down to the beach at the "old lighthouse site" to scout out a place where I could set up in the morning. From the beginning of my planning for this trip I intended to shoot a Cape Hatteras sunrise. . . and that means the actual sunrise as well as sunrise shots of the lighthouse.

The "old lighthouse site" refers to the location about half a mile away where the tower stood until it was moved in 1999-2000. Check out Cape Hatteras Light on Wikipedia for more information, including pictures of the move.

For you, of course, that'll have to wait till tomorrow. Pat and I went and sat out in front of the motel sipping - some might say guzzling - our scotch and bourbon respectively and watching the traffic go by as the sun went down. We checked our cell phone coverage with calls to several important people and eventually, when I ran out of Jack Daniels, we went down the road to Rusty's for a great seafood dinner.