serves as the assistant principal. 



He says the small school is 'like one big 

 family." 



"In an environment where everyone 

 knows everyone else, there is daily interac- 

 tion among younger kids, older kids, 

 teachers, family members and other people in 

 the community," Ballance writes in his book. 



ferry Boat 

 Captain 



Later, Ballance introduces the teachers 

 to Rudy Austin, a tall and burly retired 

 Hatteras ferry captain who now shuttles 

 tourists to nearby Portsmouth Island. 



Austin weaves stories about the 

 remoteness of the village that is accessible 

 only by boat, ferry or airplane. 



"When I was a boy, they had only one 

 nurse in the community," he says. "I broke my 

 shoulder at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Since 

 there was no X-ray machine on the island, a 

 guy flew me in a two-seated plane to Buxton 

 and then called the Navy base to take me to 

 Oregon Inlet. From there, the Coast Guard 

 took me through the inlet, and then I went by 

 ambulance to Norfolk. By the time I got to the 

 hospital it was 6 a.m." 



Austin has fond memories of belonging 

 to a mounted Boy Scout troop that cared for 

 Ocracoke's wild ponies. "Back then, we did 

 everything on horseback. We even took the 

 horses camping. That changed when the 

 National Park Service took over caring for the 

 horses." 



As a resident of the island for more than 

 58 years, Austin has seen many physical 

 changes to the island. 



To find out how much the island has 

 eroded over the last 125 years, he and fisher 

 Gene Ballance spent the last several years 

 developing a series of maps comparing the 

 changes from 1750 to 1999. 



As Austin points to the north end on the 

 map, he says, "it has been eroding at a steady 

 rate of 10 feet a year. When I was a boy, the 

 beaches were as flat as the highway. There 

 were no dunes or grasses on the beaches. I 

 used to see sea turtles crawling up and down 

 the main road. When the Park Service planted 

 grass, it did away with the natural replenish- 

 ment process." 



However, he was surprised to find that the 

 rest of Ocracoke is not washing away. 



"The south end isn't eroding," he says. 

 "The north end has been the sacrificial lamb. If 

 we allow the north end to wash away, the rest of 

 the island will also wash away." 



The village is on the south end, but Austin 

 also has strong ties to the north end. For many 

 years, he was captain of the Hatteras ferry route. 

 "If the north end goes out, we are ruined." 



Ocracoke Minister 



To get a glimpse inside a minister's life in 

 a tiny village, the teachers meet Rev. Keith 

 Sikes at the Ocracoke Assembly of God Church 

 — a white-framed building nestled among 

 small cottages. 



A tall, outspoken young man, Sikes is the 

 church's 37th minister. While standing in front 

 of the teachers seated in wooden pews, he gives 

 an overview of the church. 



"The church is one of the few Assembly 

 of God churches directly linked to the Azuza 

 Street Revival in Los Angeles," the birthplace 

 of the Pentecostal revival movement in the 

 United States. 



"The front part of the building was 

 constructed in 1 94 1 , and the back was given to 

 the church by the Navy," Sikes says. 



"This building has gone through a lot," he 

 says. "It survived the hurricane of 1944 when 

 one member saw the top turned over and taken 

 down the street. The building flipped and 

 touched a power line, which kept the whole 

 building from going over." 



Sikes says it's challenging ministering to 

 a congregation of only 24 people. 



"The people are unique," he adds. "Since 

 the Methodist minister and I are the only full- 

 time ministers on the island, we are like 

 community chaplains. We pastor everywhere 

 we go. It is hard to even go to the Ocracoke 

 Variety Store without pastoring. You have to 

 leave the island to get away." 



At times, Sikes says the island's remote- 

 ness is difficult for him, his wife and two young 

 children who are home schooled. 



"We have a love-hate relationship with 

 the island," he says. "My children's involve- 

 ment with other youngsters is limited." 



Despite the difficulties of living in a tiny 

 village, Sikes has been touched by the 

 residents' compassion. 



"The people are good and family- 

 oriented," he says. "They will quit their jobs to 

 care for an elderly person. Mr. Clinton Gaskill 

 who died recently didn't want to be in a rest 

 home. So the community made up a roster, 

 and people took turns caring for him. This 

 touched me." 



After a member dies, Sikes says a local 

 representative takes the body by ferry to a 

 funeral home on Hatteras Island. After the 

 body is embalmed, it is brought back to the 

 island church where the remains are often 

 viewed. 



"We usually don't have a service for two 

 to four days after someone dies," says Sikes. 

 "You have to wait for relatives to travel here." 



C o n t i n it e d 



COASTWATCH 



