The Village

The landing turned out to be nearly mosquito-free. We were a bit baffled by that, but sure didn't complain! We got ourselves changed into our long pants and shirts anyway, to be safe. Then we broke out the coolers and treated ourselves to sandwiches and cold drinks. I left my head netting in my pocket and we walked toward the church, which was the closest building to where we landed. While Kim went inside the church, I milled around outside and took pictures. Skeeters! They began to swarm around me like a thick fog. I dashed into the church to escape them. It was really hot in there! I put the netting on and headed back to the kayaks for the MaxiDEET. We intended to soak our clothes in it, but didn't because we didn't think we needed it. I brought it back to the church and we hosed each other down. The DEET cloud that formed around us nearly swelled my eyes shut. We left the church ready for battle, my eyes cleared up, and we began to explore the village.

One of the things that struck me as odd was an old broken down four wheeler we walked past after our landing. I wasn't shocked to see it, because they offer ATV tours on the island. I was just surprised it had been left there like that. The church, however, was in great shape, and had been beautifully restored inside. It looked to be ready for Sunday service. This was the Portsmouth that I had been reading about for years. I was finally there!

Portsmouth village was once a bustling shipping and fishing community with a population of nearly 700 people during its peak. In the mid-1800's roughly two-thirds of North Carolina's exports passed through the inlet between Ocracoke and Portsmouth. But the inlet began to shoal and shipping became more and more difficult. The Hatteras inlet became a better passage, due to a storm in 1846. As the civil war brought Union troops onto the Outer Banks, many residents left the island. Those who remained turned to fishing and "shipwrecking" for a living. In 1894 the government established the Portsmouth U.S. Lifesaving Station. That building still stands tall. By the 1950's only a handful of residents remained on the island. In 1971 the last male resident, Henry Pigott, died. After Henry's death the last two residents, Marion Babb and Elma Dixon, reluctantly moved to the mainland.

As we explored the village, I felt an overpowering sense of reverence. This place is a hallowed monument to a way of life that no longer exists. There was no electricity. Storms were brutal, and were a true test of human endurance. It would get so hot in the summer that many homes had kitchens that were separate from the houses. Small cooling shelters were used to keep perishables relatively cool. Fresh water was captured in cisterns, many of which are still intact. Very few of the buildings remain, but the ones that do have been tenderly cared for by those who believe in their preservation. The post office/general store is furnished as it would have been 50 years ago. The Dixon-Salter House is now a self-serve NPS visitor's center, with rooms preserved as they would have looked then. Following is a gallery of scenes from our visit.

Page Four - More Photos