We woke up bright and early to the tune of garbage trucks rambling down Front Street past the docks. We grabbed breakfast and ate it on the front deck of the houseboat -- a prime spot from which to watch the rest of Beaufort wake up.
After a bit, Captain Perry dropped by. He owns this houseboating outfit (a fleet of two), and he also shuttles boatloads of tourists back and forth between Beaufort (pronounced BO-furt; or, if you're Clare, BO-fart) and the national seashore. I had corresponded with Captain Perry via email when I made the houseboat reservations, and although he didn’t say or do anything specifically to make me dislike him, I got the distinct impression that we weren’t exactly connecting.
My impression was substantiated by our reception yesterday -- we were hustled onto the boat and given a very cursory overview of its operation before we were dropped off in the middle of the harbor. When I had asked about parking, I was curtly told by Captain Perry that there was plenty -- yeah, in some stranger’s driveway. I was also surprised that this Manly guy, a scraggly, weather-beaten Beaufort lifer, was appointed our go-to person. When we arrived, I had thought that he was a homeless guy hanging out on the docks. He’s nice enough, but when I made the reservations I was given the impression that Captain Perry himself would be our guide. This experience is shaping up to be not quite what I had imagined.
Yesterday afternoon, after our two-minute cruise from the town docks to the spot where we dropped anchor, Keith took Charlie and Clare out in the skiff to the sandy banks on the other side of the harbor. While Keith sat on the beach and the kids played in the sand, Captain Perry cruised by and hollered out to Keith that he had anchored the skiff in the completely wrong way considering the direction of the wind and the current. Sheepishly, Keith corrected his mistake. But how was he supposed to know?
So this morning, Captain Perry dropped by to check on us. Frankly, I was surprised that he bothered at all. He explained to us that Manly would be taking us to Shackleford Banks, the westernmost island in the Cape Lookout chain of barrier islands, and the closest island to Beaufort. In my email correspondence with Captain Perry, I had explicitly outlined some of the sights we wanted to see, and my list included things above and beyond just hopping over to Shackleford. But Perry seemed content to ignore my requests, and I didn’t feel like pushing it with him, because as he stood on his skiff this morning, all cocky-like, arms akimbo and looking down on us finishing our coffee, he looked right at me and asked if I knew how to get back to Beaufort Harbor from Shackleford. I didn’t know quite what he was getting at, or why he would need to ask that question, but I said, “Of course not. I thought you guys were taking us. That’s why we’re paying you, isn’t it?” He snapped back, “Well, it’s just one of those questions I have to ask.” What? Why would he have to ask that? It’s like he is delighting in making us feel like idiots.
Before he left us, Perry strongly suggested that we go into town for lunch and to check out the North Carolina Maritime Museum to learn about Blackbeard’s association with the area. We had absolutely no desire to go back into town. The whole point of this houseboat trip was to get away from town and to explore and enjoy the seclusion of the Outer Banks. But rather than argue with him, we obliged him and took ourselves into town on the skiff.
The maritime museum was very interesting, actually. One of my guide books calls it the best museum in the state. We enjoyed exhibits about the ecosystems on the Outer Banks, the different types of boats and ships through history, the strategic significance of Beaufort in the Civil War, and the wreck of the Queen Ann’s Revenge, one of the dread pirate Blackbeard’s larger ships, which sank in the Beaufort Inlet in 1718, and which was discovered in 1996. After perusing that exhibit, Natalie declared that she’s going to be a pirate when she grows up, and noted that she’ll be needing a cutlass. So ... yeah.
We met Manly at the docks at noon so that he could take us out to Shackleford Banks. It turns out that Outer Banks Houseboats is not insured to drive passengers anywhere. They are only allowed to take the houseboat to a destination, anchor it, and then let passengers board. No one ever told me this, and through a roundabout question-and-answer series with Manly, a man of few words who doesn’t seem to enjoy explaining much at all, I finally figured out that we had to follow behind the houseboat in the skiff until we got to our spot off Shackleford. Again, not the houseboating trip that I had imagined.
So here we are, on the northern side of Shackleford Banks, a long, thin ribbon of island made up of maritime forest, salt marsh and grassland rimmed by sand. We’re right across the Back Sound from Beaufort and neighboring Morehead City, in spot called Wade’s Shores. We can still see the lights of the towns at night, but rather than the rumble of garbage trucks, we can hear only the buzz of island insects and the lapping of the waves on the shore.
The houseboat is nice enough. It’s not super plush, it's showing some wear in spots, and I'm not sure it gets thoroughly cleaned between outings, as evidenced by the Band-Aid I found between the sheets on Clare's bed. But that's why we brought sleeping bags. Otherwise, it's neat and comfortable. I had reserved the 35-footer, but we ended up in the 46-foot vessel, instead, because apparently other guests wanted to keep the smaller boat out longer. We have plenty of room. There’s a double bed, a two bunks and a day bed that Natalie has claimed.
This afternoon, we took the skiff in to shore and walked down the beach, noting piles of horse poo from the wild herds that inhabit the islands, and finding crabs, snails, mollusks and other beach critters. We found a trail that traverses the island, skirting the salt marsh, cutting briefly through the woods and then crossing the dunes on the Atlantic side. After dinner on the houseboat, we motored back to the beach for a campfire and s'mores, then returned to the boat where we played games on the roof until sunset. Not too bad for our first full day on the boat!
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