Calabash has a 

 personality distinct 

 from the rest of 

 southern Brunswick 

 County's coastal 

 stretches. Traveling 

 down N.C. 179 by 

 Sunset Beach and 

 Ocean Isle, you see 

 trees, homes, golf 

 courses, a few plain 

 storefronts. The 

 bright, cluttered 

 commercialism of 

 Calabash's small 

 2-square-mile 

 downtown sticks 

 out like an electric 

 sore thumb. Tourist 

 shops — St. Nick 



Nacks, Victoria's Ragpatch, ice cream, 

 fudge and nautical gift stores — line 

 Thomasboro Road, the main thruway 

 of town. And then there are the 

 restaurants. 



"The Original," "The One and 

 Only," "This is It," they read, some 

 with giant 1950s-era arrows or flashing 

 lights hawking the sizzling seafood 

 platters inside. More than 20 restau- 

 rants crowd Calabash's main streets — 

 from the smaller, older institutions, 

 such as Coleman's, Beck's and 

 Thomas's, to the waterfront kitchens 

 like the Nances', to the newer addi- 

 tions, such as Larry's Calabash 

 Seafood Barn, a mammoth building 

 with a stadium-size parking lot. 



Beyond the flashy signs, most of 

 these places have simple decorations 

 — accessorized with some netting, a 

 few model ships, an aquarium. They 

 rely on their international reputation 

 to bring in the customers. 



Whether for growing crops, 

 sustaining commercial fishermen or 

 supplying seafood restaurants, Cala- 

 bash has always relied on its surround- 



Doris and Lennon Nance are part of a close-knit dinner district 

 that has become famous for its seafood platters. 



Whether for growing crops, 

 sustaining commercial fishermen 

 or supplying seafood restaurants, 

 Calabash has always relied 

 on its surrounding waters. 



Bound on one side hy 

 the Intracoastal Waterway, 

 the town sits along the hanks of 

 the Calahash Creek, its namesake. 



ing waters. Bound on one side by the 

 Intracoastal Waterway, the town sits 

 along the banks of the Calabash 

 Creek, its namesake. Calabash is the 

 Indian name for gourd, whose shape 

 the creek resembles. 



In the colonial 1700s, a plantation 

 owned by Nicholas Frick produced 

 indigo, rice and naval stores. Early 

 maps designate Calabash as "Pea 

 Landing" for the peanuts grown in 

 the area. 



Before the 

 shellfish beds were 

 closed by the state 

 more than 20 years 

 ago, locals would 

 gather bushels of 

 succulent oysters 

 from Calabash 

 Creek. Commercial 

 fishermen continue 

 to take their boats 

 into the Atlantic 

 from Calabash 

 docks. And by 1973, 

 when Calabash 

 incorporated as a 

 town, the area was 

 already calling itself 

 the "seafood capital 

 of the world." 

 But Calabash 

 natives had been serving good seafood 

 long before the restaurants and the 

 reputation were built. Folks who've 

 been around guess that it all started in 

 the '30s, as steamed or roasted oysters 

 were sold straight from big tables. The 

 first real restaurants to appear were 

 Beck's and Coleman's, whose respec- 

 tive owners were sisters. The Calabash 

 tradition of lightly flouring and frying 

 came naturally. It tasted good, and it 

 was easy and inexpensive to prepare in 

 large quantities. 



"We really didn't have recipes," 

 says Clarice Price, who built the 

 Dockside restaurant with her husband 

 in 1955. "Of course, everybody can fry 

 fish and fry shrimp," she says. 



The Dockside was the fourth 

 restaurant in town. Larger and more 

 modern than the rest, it was equipped to 

 feed about 60, while others seated 25. 



Price's husband has died but she 

 still lives in the house the two of them 

 built next door. Half hidden by shrubs, 

 trees and odds and ends, the house is 

 easy to miss next to the looming 

 Dockside, which has grown large 



12 MAY/JUNE 1996 



