I have been going to North Carolina beaches since I was a young boy – 6 or 7. My family had a small cottage at Morehead City and we spent many a day sunning and fishing at Atlantic Beach. I was in college when I made my first visit to Nags Head and I wasn’t impressed. The ocean waves weren’t nearly as spectacular as I remembered those at Atlantic Beach and the wind blew so hard that it sent stinging sand across the beaches.
About 20 years later, I returned and proceeded to fall in love with the Outer Banks – the fishing was great, the weather was more cooperative and wonderful memories ensued. Two such memories involved events that nearly turned to disaster.
One summer, Nancy and I rented a cottage on James Street in South Nags Head and invited our children, Angelin, Jimmie and their families, along with our youngest, Laura, to join us. At the time, Angelin and Brent had twin boys, Ben and Brendan, about 2 ½ years old. Jimmie and Liz had not yet started their family.
I remember the boys as a little reluctant at first to go anywhere near the crashing waves. They saw whitecaps and hauled ass. They had a better time playing in the kiddie pool on our deck.
One afternoon, after a sandy trip down to the beach, the boys were stripped of all their clothes and then splashed around in the pool and dodged water spray from a hose on the deck. They were yelling and squealing and having a great time. Somehow – I think they were in the box of toys the boys brought – there were two ladies’ wigs. The boys found the wigs, put them on and ran around the deck naked as jaybirds. My son Jimmie thought that would make a great picture and he snapped away with a camera that still required film and developing.
A few weeks later, Jimmie took the film to a shop in Atlanta and ordered extra copies to share. When he returned to get the film, the clerk eyed him suspiciously and called the manger. The manager took Jimmie to a back room and showed him the pictures of naked children with wigs. It appeared to be a clear case of child pornography. Jimmie laughed but the manager didn’t. Then, Jimmie had to explain away at the circumstances involving the suspicious photographs and assured him there was no ill intent involved.
Finally, the manger released the finished pictures and suggested that the next time Jimmie took pictures of naked boys with wigs to please take the film elsewhere for development.
Another memory involved yours truly as Head Chef for our Broccoli Bridge Club. Twice a year, Bud and Nancy Maine, Bob and Charlotte Ramsey, Ron and Nancy Martin, Dr. Wayne Ferguson and Elva, Bev and Lou Kocatas and my Nancy and I went to Nags Head for a long weekend to sort of’ play bridge and do a lot of eating, drinking and having fun. On one day, we always chartered a boat to fish in the Gulf Stream and usually had great catches. On each trip, Bob and Charlotte got seasick, but they went anyway. They were troopers.
One weekend we caught a pile of big bluefish, and as self-appointed head chef, I decided to do Blackened Bluefish. While the gang was playing bridge and waiting for my coming entrée, I loaded the fish with spices and peppers, then threw them on a red-hot skillet. Smoke quickly filled the entire upper floor of the cottage and the group scrambled outside to escape the burning fumes. I tried to open as many windows as I could before the fumes eventually chased me out.
I was thinking at the time that if those pepper fumes permanently tainted the walls and furniture, I might just have bought myself a Nags Head cottage.
Thankfully, the smell of Blackened Bluefish was gone by the time we checked out, and I was safe.
The Blackened Bluefish, by the way, turned out excellent – just don’t ever cook such a dish inside.