Another stretches across the front seat 

 of her SUV with a pillow tucked behind her 

 head and a paperback novel in hand — 

 windows open to catch the steady breeze. 

 Plants and shrubs for a seaside landscape are 

 crowded in the rear compartment. 



As we clear the dock, a young man 

 pulls bread from a picnic basket. Greedy 

 sea gulls swoop down to claim their prize 

 from his upheld hand. Soon the gulls lose 

 interest in the bread and return to the shore, 

 now shrinking on the horizon. 



It will be a while before the Ocracoke 

 lighthouse comes into view, so there is 

 plenty of time to walk about the ferry, chat 

 with passengers, and simply enjoy the 

 moving images of sea and shore. 



Born of geographic 

 necessity 



There also is time to think about the 

 evolution of the N. C. Department of 

 Transportation's Ferry Division into one of 

 the largest state-owned and -operated 

 systems in the nation — second only to 

 Washington. 



Today, a fleet of 24 ferries operates 

 year-round to transport more than two 

 million passengers across seven water 

 routes over five bodies of water. In 

 addition, the division owns a dredge and 

 numerous support vessels, maintains its 

 docks and passenger service centers, and 

 operates its own shipyard. 



Born of geographic necessity, the 

 state's sophisticated ferry system provides 

 much more than a pleasant way for tourists 

 to "discover" coastal North Carolina. 

 Ferries are an integral part of coastal 

 culture and history, and continue to be the 

 lifeline of many communities in the region. 



It is not hard to imagine Native 

 Americans negotiating the complex system 

 of rivers, bays, sounds and inlets in dug-out 

 canoes towing rafts piled with freshly killed 

 wildlife for their village's winter cache. 



Early settlers, too, depended on small 

 watercraft and barges to ferry people and 

 essential goods to towns scattered along miles 

 of erratic coast line. No bridges connected the 

 string of Outer Banks islands with each 

 other or the mainland, and few overland 

 roads traversed the low-lying terrain. 



As the coastal population grew, so did 

 the need for food, medicine, trade goods 

 and mail — as well as for a reliable means 

 of communication with the world beyond 

 watery boundaries. In the early 1900s, a 

 ferry system began to take shape from 

 private efforts to meet those needs. A tug 

 and barge conveyance system linked Bodie 

 Island and Hatteras Island across the 

 Oregon Inlet. A wooden trawler-type ferry 

 soon was put on line. 



The groundwork was laid for a state- 

 supported ferry system when, in 1 934, the 

 State Highway Commission — now known 

 as the Department of Transportation — 

 subsidized the route to reduce the ferry 

 tolls. By 1942, a fixed reimbursement 

 arrangement with the ferry operator 

 eliminated tolls on that route. 



Similarly, in the early 1940s, a private 

 ferry business across the Croatan Sound 

 from Manns Harbor to Manteo was 

 established. When the captain-owner died, 

 his family sold the franchise and two 

 vessels, the Dare and Tyrrell, to the state in 

 1946. 



The ferry system grew in concert with 

 other coastal developments in the early 

 1950s, which included paving N.C. 12 

 from Whalebone Junction to Hatteras and 

 establishing the Cape Hatteras National 

 Seashore. Larger capacity vessels and 

 additional routes were launched to meet 

 demands. 



With expansion came the decision by 

 the State Highway Commission in 1 960 to 

 create an independent State Ferry Opera- 

 tions office at Manteo. To provide more 

 centralized service, its headquarters were 

 moved to Morehead City in 1964. In 1974, 

 it became known as the N.C. Ferry Division. 



Responding to life and 

 death emergencies 



Ferry routes and vessel sizes have 

 changed to meet transporation needs, says 

 G.W. "Jerry" Gaskill, division director 

 since 1993. Long before he came on board 

 as director, Gaskill, whose family roots 

 sink deep into Cedar Island and Ocracoke 

 shores, understood that the ferry system 

 plays a vital role in the day-to-day lives of 

 coastal residents. 



Gaskill also knows too well that the 

 system plays a part in life-and-death 

 emergencies such as Hurricane Floyd in 

 September 1999. 



State evacuation operations were 

 hampered when a section of U.S. 17 between 

 Chocowinity and Washington flooded, he 

 recalls. Coordinating with the state's 

 emergency management team, Gaskill 

 quickly moved four extra vessels into place 

 on the Pamlico River at the Aurora-Bayview 

 ferry crossing. For three days, state troopers 

 diverted traffic from the flooded highway to 

 Aurora. Thanks to round-the-clock ferry 

 operations, some 8,600 vehicles filled with 

 14,000 anxious passengers moved to safer 

 and dryer U.S. 264 on the Bayview side. 



There were tense moments, recalls 

 Captain Charles Piner. "It was the only way 

 to get to the hospitals in Greenville where 

 one family had a dying grandmother. The 

 highway patrol allowed the family car to 

 pass ahead in the line of waiting vehicles so 

 that they could get there for their good-byes. 

 Another woman in labor managed to make it 

 to the hospital in time," he adds. 



Piner, a former tugboat captain, has 

 been with the ferry division since 1996 — 

 long enough to remember hurricanes Fran 

 and Bertha. "Nothing has been as dramatic as 

 Floyd's flooding," he attests. 



That may be true, Gaskill says, but the 

 ferry workers historically are the "unsung 

 heroes" of coastal storms — assisting in 

 evacuation efforts from Outer Banks 

 communities, delivering food and medicine 

 to stranded islanders, and unglamorously 

 transporting refuse in the wake of such 

 natural disasters. Ferries also completed the 

 Outer Banks link while the Bonner Bridge at 

 Oregon Inlet was closed for repairs after 

 being damaged by a barge during a 

 nor'easter in October 1990. 



All emergencies don't have happy 

 endings, says Captain Sandy Mitchell on 

 board the Southport. The former Navy and 

 merchant seaman says his crew was called 

 into action to help with the rescue of a 

 capsized shrimp boat on the Cape Fear near 

 the former Corncake Inlet. "We rescued the 

 passenger on the boat, but the captain didn't 

 make it," says a somber Mitchell. 



Continued 



COASTWATCH 



