s. 



r ometime during 

 the mid-morning hours of 

 Sept. 8, 1846, a man we 

 know only as Mr. Midgett of 

 Bodie Island sat astride his 

 horse on the northern Outer 

 Banks. For several days, a 

 heavy northeast blow had 

 scoured the barrier islands 

 and pushed water into the 

 northwest reach of Pamlico 

 Sound, but for the moment 

 the storm had abated, the 

 winds had calmed, and 

 Midgett had wandered into 

 the dunes. He was three- 

 quarters of a mile from his 

 house when a sudden squall 

 hit from the southwest, and 

 the soundside waters, pent 

 up like raw emotion, roared 

 seaward across the narrow 

 sand banks. The entire island 

 was inundated; only the tops 

 of the dunes were exposed. 

 Trapped atop one of them, caught in the 

 full fury of the storm, was Midgett and 

 his mount. 



I read this story in the quiet 

 chambers of the Outer Banks History 

 Center in Manteo, the yellowed pages of 

 the old U.S. Coast Survey report 

 crinkling like the sound of coquina shells 

 clattering in surf. I imagine Midgett 

 huddled out there on the dunes, gripping 

 a wet saddle pommel, leaning into the 

 lee of wind behind his horse's salty 

 mane. Midgett "sat upon his horse on a 

 small sand knoll for five hours," 

 according to the report, "and witnessed 

 the destruction of his property, and (as 

 he then supposed) of his family also, 

 without the power to move a foot to their 

 rescue, and, for two hours, expecting 

 every moment to be swept to sea 

 himself." 



When the waters receded, Midgett 

 saw that his world had been dramatically 

 altered. The storm carved two new inlets 

 in Bodie Island — one that would soon 

 disappear, but another that yet remains. 

 Sometime in the months after Midgetf s 



These are slow days at the Wanchese harbor, 

 rely on safe passage through Oregon 



stormy vigil, a ship successfully passed 

 through one of those inlets. That vessel 

 would long be remembered, though her 

 name would cause Outer Banks travelers 

 a century later to scratch their heads in 

 confusion. She was a side-wheeler 

 steamboat on her maiden voyage to 

 Carolina. Her name was Oregon. 



Today, Oregon Inlet occupies a 

 singular place in the cultural history of 

 the North Carolina coast. Other land- 

 marks may boast of identities founded 

 on natural beauty, historical import or 

 their role in the grand sporting traditions 

 of the state's eastern margin. Not so 

 Oregon Inlet. Certainly natural beauty 

 and the sweep of history have a say in 

 the story of this 2,500-foot cleft in the 

 barrier island chain, but their voices are 

 drowned by the great hue and cry that 

 has come to define the inlet: the 30-year- 

 old proposal to anchor the shifting inlet 

 with two massive stone jetties built by 

 the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. The 

 jetties would extend into the open ocean 

 nearly two-thirds of a mile and cost 

 between $80 million and $120 million to 



where commercial fishing boats 

 Inlet's difficult waters. 



build and up to $500 million more to 

 maintain for the next 50 years. Autho- 

 rized by Congress in 1970 but never fully 

 funded, the twin breakwaters, supporters 

 say, would stabilize the inlet and allow 

 for a deeper channel, which would make 

 passage safer and attract larger fishing 

 boats to North Carolina ports. Jetty 

 backers maintain that the structures 

 would help stymie erosion at Bonner 

 Bridge and along nearby N.C. 12, "the 

 lifeline of the Outer Banks," according to 

 Outer Banks Chamber of Commerce 

 president John Bone. Commercial 

 fishers, marina and motel owners, the 

 Department of Transportation and 

 politicians from Gov. Jim Hunt to U.S. 

 Sen. Jesse Helms to Dare County's State 

 Sen. Marc Basnight have queued up to 

 lend unflagging support to the jetty 

 effort. 



But the plan is controversial. Coastal 

 geologists question the Corps' assess- 

 ments of its ability to manage the moving 

 inlet shoreline. Taxpayer groups decry 

 the project as pork-barrel spending with 

 costs that outweigh benefits. Environ- 



8 HIGH SEASON 1998 



