Rsh Catop? Herbage 



Built in the 1950s by different individu- 

 als, the rustic fish cabins have a rich history. 



The cabins were basically "stud shacks 

 with weatherboard or tar paper siding," 

 according to B.K. Barringer of Mooresville, 

 who began staying at the cabins in the 1960s. 

 Garages or barns protected old cars from the 

 harsh weather and scavengers looking for 

 parts. 



On the end of the island where the old 

 north dock is, Carlie Willis ran a fish camp. 

 Next to him, Sterling Dixon ran another 

 operation. Further south, there were two 

 camps operated by Marvin Murphy and 

 Ronnie Willis' grandfather, Alger Willis. 



Both Carlie and Alger carried fishers 

 and their gear to the island on fishing boats 

 converted to ferries. Many of the boats did 

 not have a reverse gear. When a ferry got to 

 the dock, the captain made a turnaround, 

 looping a line around a piling and swinging 

 the ferry around to back up to the dock for 

 loading and unloading, according to Barringer. 



As soon as they arrived, Barringer and 

 his fishing buddies would lay their fishing 

 poles, "often large Calcutta bamboo poles," 

 flat across the top of the fishing buggies so 

 they could drive under the Coast Guard 

 telegraph lines that ran across the center of 

 the island, he says. 



When they got to the cabin in those 

 early days, they would unlock their shacks, 

 start their old beach buggies, and check to see 

 if the electricity was hooked up and if water 

 was in the elevated tank. 



"You couldn't drink the water," says 

 Barringer, president of the Davis Island 

 Fishing Foundation (DIFF), an organization 

 that works with the Park Service to preserve 

 South Core Banks. "There was so much 

 harmful bacteria in the water that your 

 fingernails would puff up after being there a 

 couple of days. Only the hardy went down 

 there." 



Barringer says that he usually found the 

 best fishing holes when they had to stop to fix 

 a flat tire or overheated radiator, or when they 

 got stuck in the sand. "One time, I changed 



eight flat tires before coming home. You 

 never ventured too far on the island." 



Because of the remoteness of the island, 

 some fishers stayed at Alger's big white 

 home on the waterfront in Davis before 

 making the trip. 



"In the 1950s and 1960s, my grandma 

 and grandpa operated a lodge in their house," 

 says Annette Mitchum, now co-owner of the 

 Willis camps. "They used to sleep customers 

 and cook breakfast." 



As a child, Mitchum often played on the 

 Banks while visiting her grandparents. 

 "Back then, you only had two-wheel drive 

 vehicles," she says. "A lot of people brought 

 their station wagons and shovels and boards 

 in case they got stuck. You were pretty much 

 on your own. There weren't many people 

 over there." 



In 1976, Core Banks was transferred 

 from the state of North Carolina to the 

 National Park Service, establishing Cape 

 Lookout National Seashore. 



Because many of the cabins were in 

 such bad shape, the Park Service burned 

 more than 300 cabins on Core Banks and at 

 Portsmouth, according to Mike McGee, 

 seashore facilities manager. "None of these 

 were historic," he adds. 



Some fishers who were angry with park 

 officials for taking over the island also burned 

 their cabins. 



At that time, Alger Willis began 

 managing all the remaining cabins through a 

 Park Service contract. 



Cafcm Facelifts 



Over the years, the Park Service has 

 made a lot of improvements to the cabins. In 

 the 1980s, a new well was put in. The water 

 began going through a chlorination process to 

 make it potable, according to Ronnie Willis. 



Now, all cabins have hot water, propane 

 gas stoves and showers. Most also have 

 hookups for electric generators. 



With modernization, more fishers began 

 bringing their families to the cabins. 



"Until the mid-1980s, it was mostly 

 diehard male fishers," says Mitchum. "You 



didn't see many women come until they got 

 showers in the mid-80s." 



Gradually, the cabins also have gotten 

 facelifts on the outside and inside. Some 

 fishing clubs, including DIFF and the Core 

 Banks Surf Fishing Club, organize work 

 weeks to spruce up the cabins. 



Now, the Park Service is rehabilitating 

 three to four cabins a year, according to 

 McGee. 



"We are trying to update the conces- 

 sions so they can be used by fishermen and 

 families," says Bob Vogel, the park superin- 

 tendent. "We are not upgrading the facilities 

 to make it a resort. The camps will remain 

 remote and primitive." 



Fishers flock to the fish camps in the fall 

 when red drum and bluefish are running 

 strong. 



By the end of January, all cabins are 

 booked for October, says Willis. "In the fall, 

 we run three boats, five times a day, seven 

 days a week." 



Beach Cleanup 



Since the Park Service took over Core 

 Banks, they also have cleaned up the piles of 

 junk cars left on the beach. 



"As late as the 1960s, people commonly 

 bought a car for $50 or $100, usually with 

 bald, tubed tires, and they took the car over 

 by ferry, let the air out of the tires until the 

 walls sagged, and drove on the beach, according 

 to David Stick's Outer Banks Reader. "If the 

 car died, the owner would leave it, figuring 

 he had gotten his money's worth. 



"The Park Service estimated in the mid- 

 1970s that some 2,500 junk vehicles were on 

 the beach, forming dunes of their own. 

 Government helicopters lowered huge 

 magnets onto the sand to airlift the skeletons." 



Near the ferry landing was a large 

 junkpile where the RVs park today. 



Volunteer groups, including the DIFF 

 and Core Banks clubs, helped pick up metal 

 scraps — from pieces of cars to hot water 

 heaters and stoves. 



"It took 10 or 12 dump trucks to get rid 



Continued 



COASTWATCH 9 



