of Fish and Fowl 



By Carla B. Burgess 



lighthouse and made sure the lens was 

 clean, the generator was running and the 

 batteries were charged. 



In the 1920s, many Currituck residents 

 left the county. But they returned during 

 the Depression because they could live off 

 the land and the sound, says Norris 

 Austin, Corolla postmaster. 



Ralph Barco, 80, who lives in Grandy 

 on the mainland, says the folks of Curri- 

 tuck County were resourceful when it 

 came to making a living. Barco worked as 

 a hunting guide, ran a lodge and sold pro- 

 duce to the Dare County tourist traffic. 

 Now he deals in real estate and septic 

 tanks. 



"My father was the first in Currituck 

 County to shed crabs," he says. 



On a warm October day, Barco drives 

 his truck through his undeveloped Sound 

 Side Estates, stopping at the water's edge. 



"That's Barco landing," he says, point- 

 ing to the place where his family's fish 

 house once stood. 



During the market hunting days, his 

 grandfather would buy ducks and geese 

 from hunters at the landing and then ship 

 them north for sale. Live carp were bought 

 and sent to New Jersey. Live crabs were 



placed in special trays packed with grass 

 for shipment to New York and Baltimore. 



Barco said they even loaded oyster boats 

 with watermelons in summer. 



And in freezing weather, the Barcos 

 scraped ice from the docks and stored it 

 in a building with sawdust to use in 

 spring shipping. 



In warm months, the water doubled as 

 a source of recreation. Residents swam 

 and fished throughout the county. 



In Coinjock, situated on the Albemarle 

 and Chesapeake Canal, residents saved 

 their money all summer to see 'Adams 

 Floating Theatre" in the fall. The show- 

 boat floated through for the first time in 

 1917 "with flags flying and the band 

 playing," one historical account states. It 

 continued its visits through 1930. 



In Poplar Branch, residents sought a 

 lively evening at the floating tavern. 



Currituck has grown up since the days 

 of shell roads and buoyant entertainment. 



The area is developing rapidly and 

 changes are coming too fast for lifelong 

 residents like Shirley Austin of Corolla. 



"You'd better not leave for too long," 

 she says. "Or you won't be able to find 

 your way back."* 



Hiking Aim at Waterfowl 



Sam the swan looks secure in his place 

 among the mallards this sunny autumn 

 morning. He stands as stiff as a decoy, his 

 head raised proudly as if he knows he's 

 being watched. 



In another place and time, the watcher 

 might have been looking down the barrel 

 of a shotgun. But today Ralph Barco, 70, 

 is just gazing out the window of his 

 truck, admiring the view of the pond. 



"I talk to 'em all the time, tell 'em how 

 pretty they are," says the Grandy resident. 

 "To me, today the pleasure of looking at 

 the birds is more than shooting them." 



A lot of older generation Currituck 

 hunters have adopted this attitude. Maybe 

 it's age. Or perhaps it's respect for a 

 declining resource. It's not that they've 

 stopped hunting altogether. They've just 

 mellowed. 



Barco, like many of his fellow natives, 

 has had an ongoing love affair with the 

 waterfowl that flock to Currituck County. 

 He's hunted them, guided others in the 



hunt and, until recently, ran a lodge in 

 his home for visiting sportsmen. 



The birds have long been a golden egg 

 to the area, its economy and its heritage. 



The waters of Currituck Sound and sur- 

 rounding marshlands were once one of 

 North America's premier wintering grounds 

 for snow geese, canvasbacks and whistling 

 swans. When the birds flew south, the 

 hunters flocked behind. 



Drive down almost any street or back 

 road in Currituck County and you'll see 

 them— duck lawn ornaments, geese whirl- 

 igigs, birds painted on mailboxes. Their 

 likenesses show up on signs for motels, 

 realtors, restaurants and resorts. 



Dig beneath this decor and you'll find 

 the once thriving artery that kept the 

 heart of Currituck pumping. Almost 

 everyone there is connected to the hunt in 

 some way. 



The men— and some women— toted their 

 shotguns to the marsh from childhood. 



Continued on the next page 



Historically, the church was the 

 social center of rural communities. 

 Currituck County is no exception. 



"My mother was born, north of 

 Corolla, a place called Seagull," 

 says native Shirley Austin. "They 

 had things called box suppers at the 

 church, where the girls all prepared 

 a picnic in a box." 



The boys would bid on the girls ' 

 boxes, and the husbands on their 

 wives.' "The bidding got kind of 

 heavy sometimes with the singles, " 

 she says. 



A church was built at Waterlily, 

 also called Church's Island, around 

 the turn of the century. The chapel 

 was to be nondenominational, but 

 restricted to Protestants. 



"They had what was called a cir- 

 cuit rider, which was a minister 

 that traveled around. I remember 

 when one of them preached there at 

 Waterlily, " Austin says, explaining 

 people went to other churches also, 

 depending on how they liked the 

 preacher. "The congregation would 

 slack off sometimes. It was an up 

 and down kind of thing. " 



By Carla B. Burgess 



Ralph Barco 



Photo by Carla B. Burgess 



