It's our last day at the beach, then begins the three day drive home--which is also fun. . . but it's no beach.
The first week of storms played havoc with the island and as a result, we have seen things this trip that we have not seen before. Our beach was a mere 15 feet wide beyond the dunes. At high tide, which we never saw this past week, the waves made it all the way up to the base of the dunes (no beach). There are actual shells on the Avon beach instead of just pieces. The Ocracoke ferry was shut down at the beginning of the week after a ferry ran aground on a sand bar--and reopening only after serious work done by a dredger that was still in operation when we went out to the island on Wednesday.
Kind of cool, but also all reminders of how fragile these islands are.
Famous for their apple ugly, I prefer regular old donuts at the Orange Blossom.
My parents, since I was pretty tiny, planned lots of trips that required ferry trips--at the Outer Banks, in Wisconsin, in Canada and Maine. So many boats that eventually the Stewart family saying was born: It's not a vacation without a ferry ride. It's a joke (but I nevertheless do feel a little robbed if a vacation ends and I have not ridden a ferry).
Kite shop porch extravaganza.
Dad emerges form the dunes.
Ocracoke beaches are different than Hatteras Island beaches. The sand is whiter. The beaches are deep and flat. The water is gentle and shallow--though filled with loads of blue crabs that don't seem particularly spooked by people. There are usually loads of shells (though not the elusive Scotch Bonnet, much to my mother's chagrin). They're lovely. I prefer the Hatteras beaches, but it's nice to take a short ferry ride to a totally different place for a day.
I found a sand dollar!
Dredge.
