The following account describing life on Ocracoke in 1929 was written by Hyman Leroy Harris (1897-1995) in 1975. In the introduction, Mr. Harris expressed his “personal desire to chronicle some of the experiences and events that have meaning for me.”

Herewith Mr. Harris’ account, very slightly edited, with photos and references added (you can read his full story here:


Through some medium I discovered that Ocracoke School wanted a principal. … At [a] meeting [with the county superintendent in Washington, NC.] I was told about the school and the situation in general. I was offered the position which I accepted….

I soon made an exploratory trip to Ocracoke where I met with the local committee. The quaintness of this historic place along the outer banks tied in with some of the earliest history of North Carolina…. Ocracoke in 1929 cannot be…compared with Ocracoke of today [1975]. Here, like almost everywhere else, modernity has broken through the isolation barrier. The airplane and the modern ferry service maintain dependable transportation to and from the outside world.

I came into Ocracoke on this initial visit via a freight boat down the Pamlico river from Washington [see for more information about freight boats].

William G. Dryden Freight Boat, 1922
William G. Dryden Freight Boat, 1922

This route at the time was not as popular with passengers as the daily mail boat out of Atlantic. Because of my convenience to the port at Washington, however, I chose this route. We left Washington about 8 o’clock in the evening and arrived in Ocracoke just as the sun was coming up. Approaching Ocracoke from the west on the Sound, the first visible sign of land is the lighthouse which in the darkness seems to rise out of the water like a huge star. Passengers aboard the freighter availed themselves of the sight that sailors love to see whether approaching from the Sound side or the Atlantic side. The lighthouse is a landmark on the island as well as on the outer banks.

Ocracoke Lighthuse
Ocracoke Lighthuse

Upon landing I found my way to the Pamlico Inn operated by Bill Gaskill and his wife, Annie, where I obtained a room and tried to catch a little sleep [see for more information about the Pamlico Inn].

Pamlico Inn
Pamlico Inn

I was awakened in a short while doubtless by some mischievous boy singing something to the tune of the “Old Rugged Cross.” The words as 1 caught them seemed slightly changed: “On a hill far away / Stood and Old Chevrolet.” Since there weren’t but one or two Chevrolets and its kind on the island, it must have been for the most part something the young man dreamed about.

After a somewhat belated breakfast served in a typical Ocracoke atmosphere, I set out to do some exploring. The uniqueness of Ocracoke Island at the time of which I write, could best be known by one who was destined to spend nine months in residence. There was no electricity, no hard surface roads. In fact no roads at all, just paths running off in various directions through the deep sands. There was not a Chevrolet to be seen.

The ecology problem that was gathering momentum [in 1975] in other places was an unknown quantity in these parts. Drinking water, we might say the total usable water supply, was caught from the roofs of the houses and stored in cisterns, during periods of prolonged droughts, neighbor would share with neighbor as his supply allowed. The long-established policy on Ocracoke whether it was water or something else was sharing and “make do.” (see for more information about Ocracoke cisterns. [See for more information about Ocracoke cisterns.]

Ocracoke Cistern
Ocracoke Cistern

There were two or three grocery stores with a limited supply of grocery and general merchandise.

Clarence Scarborough's Store
Clarence Scarborough’s Store

Coal, the most used commodity for fuel, was bought in on freight boat out of Washington. This boat that might well be called the life-line, made two round trips a week.

I made contact with Gary Bragg, chairman of the local school board, got a good look at the four-room, dilapidated school building, found a vacant, four-room house that seemed to offer reasonable satisfactory loving quarters and otherwise got myself in readiness for the return trip to Washington on Monday…. There were lots of better places than Ocracoke, but nevertheless it was a place and I was, according to the contract, to receive $l40 per month. [See for more information about Ocracoke schools, although the 1971 schoolhouse was destroyed from flooding during Hurricane Dorian in 2019.]

The 1917 Ocracoke Schoolhouse
The 1917 Ocracoke Schoolhouse

Lerlene and I were married in the Christian Church in Wendell, a church I had served as pastor a few years previously, on the morning of September 2, 1929. The officiating minister, John Waters, in making his return trip to his home in Wilson, provided us transportation to that point on our way to Ocracoke. We took the A. C. L. train for New Bern where we spent the night in the old Gaston Hotel. The next day we continued our journey to Beaufort and then to Atlantic by bus from which point we took the boat for Ocracoke, arriving there about five o’clock in the afternoon of September 3, 1929. [Because of misdirected luggage, Lerlene] had nothing to wear except that lovely, brown velvet outfit she wore at the wedding. It was appropriate enough for the wedding but when we landed in Ocracoke, still wearing that lovely outfit and stepped into that deep sand, she seemed most inappropriately dressed.

Village Street
Village Street

The conventional attire of Ocracoke was a little different from this. At the pier Bill Gaskill stepped forward and greeted Lerlene in a most cordial fashion. He inquired if she were from New York, he evidently thought her dress indicated as much. He was expecting an important guest from that point and surely she looked the part. Mr. and Mrs. Gary Bragg invited us to their home and provided us over-night entertainment.

Ocracoke is today [1975] a resort for the people and a paradise for sportsmen. This little speck of land and its people seem always to be threatened by the monstrous Atlantic on one side and the Pamlico Sound on the other. Its inhabitants numbering little more than one hundred at the time of our residence [actual population in 1929 was about 550), are, for the most part, descendants from ancestors who landed here not necessarily by choice but by chance from wrecks off the coast of the island. Many here have never been off the island.

When we were there the population was all white with exception of one negro family. Integration at this time was not being attempted and the children of this family, because they were colored, did not attend school anywhere.. They were a highly respected family and except for the fact that tradition dictated otherwise [In 1875 a state constitutional amendment established separate schools for black and white children, but there was no school for black children on Ocracoke], I do not believe there would have been any objection to them sharing in the local school facilities. The school provided for the children through the 8th Grade.[See for information about Muzel Bryant, the last member of Ocracoke’s historic black family.]

Jane Bryant
Jane Bryant

The United States Government maintained a Coast Guard and Lighthouse stations on the island. The lighthouse, built in 1797 [actually, 1823], is one of the oldest lighthouses in America still in active service. Previous to 1930, it was lighted each evening by the keeper who ascended the long flight of steps, using kerosene as fuel. In that year it was converted to electricity. We lived while on the island in a house near the base and enjoyed the rare privilege of having our bedroom lighted each night by the mellow rays from that ancient tower. [See for more information about the Ocracoke lighthouse]

… One tradition has it that a certain house in the village known as the “Old Pirate House” was the home of Blackbeard, the pirate, and was used as the hiding place for his plunder. This same source has it that at a point in the inlet near the village, locally known as “Teach’s Hole” the buccaneer tarred and caulked his ships….This is also the well authenticated site where Blackbeard met Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the British navy in the fall of 1718 and came to his tragic end.

We have been told on authority of an old document now in the Chowan County courthouse in Edenton, that Ocracoke Island bore the name by which it is now known as far back as 1716, two years before the notorious pirate met his Waterloo. In a rare old volume known as “The History and Lives of All the Most Notorious Pirates and Their Crews” published in London in 1735, Ocracoke Inlet is spelled “Okere-Cock Inlet”.

Among the many legends and traditions that live on this island is one concerning the beautiful daughter of Aaron Burr, Theodosia Burr Alston. It is well known that she lost her life aboard a ship somewhere along the eastern coast. The legend persists locally though not strongly supported by evidence, that she was rescued from a wrecked ship near Ocracoke and lived on the island until her death.

Ocracoke was settled [by Europeans] in the 17th century [more likely, the early 18th century]. In those years before the War between the States, Ocracoke became an important port of entry. Large storage warehouses were maintained here during the 1700s. Perhaps the most famous was on Shell Castle, a small island, of shell rock in the inlet, owned in that earlier day by John Gray Blount, landowner and merchant prince. A pitcher in the Blount Collection in the Hall of History in Raleigh, bears a sketch of Shell Castle.

Shell Castle Pitcher
Shell Castle Pitcher

At Shell Island ships were loaded with cargoes of tar, pitch and turpentine and returned with staple products and manufactured articles. After the royal Governor, Josiah Martin, had been forced out of the colony, he wrote the following to his home government from New York: “The contemptible port of Ocracoke … has become a great channel of supply to the rebels while the more considerable ports of the Continent have been watched by the King’s ships.” He then added: “Commodore Hotham the Naval Commander…will no doubt take all proper measures for shutting up the avenue of succor to the rebels.”

Portsmouth Island, across the inlet one mile south of Ocracoke was in that earlier period also a much-used port. Boats from many countries loaded and unloaded cargo here and, before the Civil war, became a resort for rich planters from the mainland. Fort Granville, built here by the Confederates in 17!3 and burned by them after the fall of Ocracoke, marked the beginning of the decline of Portsmouth Island, The hospital and prison, maintained here by the Federals until after the War, were also destroyed without leaving a trace. [You can read about the hospital here:] In 1938, the Coast Guard Station, built in early 1890s, had its garrison removed. Today [1975] Portsmouth is hardly more than a barren stretch of sand. Two families of the old-timers are left and these stubbornly refuse to leave their native hearth but obviously their days are numbered.

Portsmouth Coast Guard Station 1917
Portsmouth Coast Guard Station 1917

The sea through the years has taken its toll of life and many are the families on Ocracoke left without a husband, father or brother as a result of tragic misfortunes of the sea. Here boys grow up hardly knowing anything else but marine life; they enlist in the navy, merchant marine or engage in the business of fishing, the means of a livelihood they know best. The sad fate of Jim Baugham Gaskill, the youngest son of Bill and Annie Gaskill, owners and operators of the Pamlico Inn, is one of the latest names to be added to the long list. When we were at Ocracoke Jim Baugham was about 13 years of age. He was a kind of helper around the Inn. He had an attractive personality and was a favorite of everyone on the island. After we moved away we lost contact with the island and its people. After a few years we began to hear about the sad fate that overtook this young man. Jim Baugham inherited the true spirit of the hearty seafarer, that of courage and daring. ….

In December, 1941, when the Japanese made their treacherous attack on Pearl Harbor, Jim Baugham was 25 years of age and had already earned his master’s license and was a qualified and experienced ship captain. Jim offered his service to the Merchant Marine and was accepted. He was assigned to the vessel, the Caribsea. It was on this vessel that Captain Jim Gaskill sailed southwardly in early March. Passing a few miles east of Ocracoke, he must have had thoughts of home and loved ones. A storm of violent proportions swept the coast on March 11, wreaking havoc and doing damage to an extent that will never be known. One thing is known: Captain Jim Gaskill lost his life aboard the ship, Caribsea either as a result of the storm or of an attack by an enemy submarine.

It was while the father was checking the damage done to his pier and the boats alongside, that he spied a piece of timber some eight or ten feet in length and possibly two feet wide. It possibly attracted his interest more because it jutted against one of the boats than because of its size. In his effort to propel it away from the wharf in the hope that the tides would take it out to sea, the offending board flipped and Bill Gaskill found himself looking at the bold letters that had until now been hid from his view, “Caribsea.” It was the name plate from the ship on which his son Jim Baugham Gaskill had sailed. Later official information confirmed the fact that Jim had lost his life when the Carib Sea was torpedoed and sunk. Further evidence of the tragedy was made known that very afternoon when Jim Baugham’ s older brother while walking along the ocean’s shore came across the door from the pilothouse of Caribsea. Attached to the door were the licenses of several of the officers of the Caribsea and among them the license of Captain James Gaskill. The tragedy of the Caribsea is matched by the strangeness of the turbulent sea bringing these two tokens over the many miles, past other inlets and ports and depositing them at the very point where members of the brave young captain’s family would find them. Later word from the War Department confirmed the sad intelligence that the ocean had already made known. Today there rests upon the altar of the United Methodist Church in the village of Ocracoke, a beautiful gold-colored cross. At the base of the cross one reads the following inscription: “IN MEMORY OF CAPT. JAMES B. GASKILL. JULY 2, 1916. MARCH 11, 1942. THIS CROSS CONSTRUCTED FROM SALVAGE OF THE SHIP UPON WHICH CAPTAIN GASKILL LOST HIS LIFE.” Here on Sunday the congregation offers its worship to a good God even as they sing the words of the glorious old hymn:

“For all the danger on the stormy deep,
For all who ‘neath their billows sleep,
Great God of wave and wind and sky
Thy boundless mercy now we seek.”

Cross at Ocracoke Methodist Church
Cross at Ocracoke Methodist Church

Our venture in housekeeping on Ocracoke had novelty all its own. Getting your water for household use out of a cistern and during droughts, trying to make it last until the next rainstorm, is something everyone on the island is accustomed to. The two local stores carried a fairly good line of staple groceries but other than this everything else had to be brought in by special order with the captain of the freight boat, this included fresh meat except of course what could be secured out of the water. Vegetables could be grown very well in local gardens. Every lump of coal, and this was at the time the only fuel used for heating the houses, had to come in via freight boat on special order. Strange as it may seem, nobody on the island out of any neighborly or commercial concern against the day of need, chose to lay in a supply to be retailed out to the residents. All coal had to be sacked and handled much as one would handle a sack of sugar. Several days were required to complete the operation.

There were two churches on the island: Methodist Episcopal and Methodist Episcopal, South. Since there had to be two, it might seem a little strange that both had to be Methodists. The union in 1939 brought these two bodies together. The M. E. Church, South, upon our arrival, was served by the Rev. W. A. Betts. He was succeeded that fall by the Rev. R. N. Fitts. [You can read about the history of Ocracoke’s Methodist Church here: and here:]

Ocracoke Methodist Episcopal Church, South
Ocracoke Methodist Episcopal Church, South

The nine months we spent on Ocracoke Island were filled with unforgettable experiences: the kindness of the neighbors in supplying us with sea food from their abundant supply; the storm that swept across the island leaving it flooded with water, even necessitating me taking off my shoes and wading in bare feet to reach home; the mistaken report of Henry Betts [the youngest of Rev. W. A. Betts’s children] one day that the school house was on fire, exciting much false alarm. Perhaps the one figure we remember above the others is “Aunt Mame Harris.” She lived alone in her quaint little cottage a short distance from ours. Perceiving that we were unacquainted with Ocracoke ways, she somewhat informally adopted us. Her giant fig trees, loaded with fruit, were skillfully converted into the most excellent, preserves under the guidance of “Aunt Mame.” [Mary Ann (Mame) Gaskins Harris was born in 1876, never attended school, operated a boarding house, was widowed, and had no children.]

We missed her frequent visits that became less frequent when she went with Bill Gaskill at the Pamlico Inn. Here her culinary skill added something distinctive to the famous meals served in the dining room of the well-known Inn.

Perhaps the only time Lerlene’s parents were over-night guests in our home was while we were at Ocracoke. Never having visited the outer banks, and, of course being somewhat curious to know more about our living situation on the Island, they with their younger daughter, Clyde B. Cline, accepted our invitation to visit us during the Thanksgiving vacation. At this time the tobacco crop had been harvested and sold and it was the best possible time to get away from the chores of caring for the farm animals for a short period. November, their favorite month, usually brought excellent weather. Everything having been looked after and the preparations all made, the party of three left Wendell in the Browns new Buick, early on Wednesday morning, Thanksgiving Eve, 1929. They arrived in Atlantic where the parked the car and caught the mail boat for Ocracoke. The day of their arrival was one of those perfect fall days. We met them at the pier and escorted them on foot through the deep sand to our cottage. Sleeping accommodations being somewhat limited in our cottage, Lerlene and I accepted the kind invitation of Aunt Mame and found lodging at her house while our guests took over our cottage.

The radio, just coming into popular use, gave us no information about the hurricane approaching from the northeast. No detailed weather reports were given out at that time by the weather bureau. Thanksgiving dawned bright and clear. Since our honored guests had little love for fishing, the one sport in which Ocracoke excelled, we resorted to the only type of entertainment that was left: walking excursions over the island.

Sometimes walking through deep sand was not an exciting pastime, but we heard no complaint. In the afternoon the overcast blotted out the sun and soon dark and threatening clouds began to appear. But change in the weather and often without warning, is the accustomed and expected thing on Ocracoke. The natives keeping a close watch on the barometer as they are wont to do, noticed an unusual drop along with the temperature. The increasing velocity of the wind and the torrents of rain left no doubt but that we were in for a storm. Naturally enough the Browns as well as the rest of us were thinking about that trip back to Wendell and all of the water that lay in between.

Because of the weather we were not even sure that the mail boat would make the trip and it does take bad weather to make the old mariners on the island to change their schedule. We learned, however, that unless conditions got worse, the mail boat would make its usual trip. Our guests seemed to share the indomitable spirit of the natives. They would not listen to any suggestion that the return trip be delayed. The home and the animals back home were left for only a short time. It was urgent that they get back on schedule if at all possible. When the boat pulled up to the pier that early morning hour, it was still dark. While the wind had somewhat subsided, it was still a threatening and dangerous situation. With some difficulty our three departing guests were able, with the help that was given, to get aboard the boat. Almost without any formal good-by they were off in the darkness and the raging waters of the Pamlico Sound. We were left with only a hope and a prayer.

Mailboat Aleta venturing into Pamlico Sound
Mailboat Aleta venturing into Pamlico Sound

The good captain, brave and courageous from many other similar experiences, took on that particular morning the indirect course which meant a deeper penetration of the Sound and thus further away from the rougher waters of the inlet. This route, he said offered greater safety.

When the Browns arrived home which they did with the help of the Lord and many in between, they found as they had feared, that the storm had not left the interior of the state without damage…. There were many reasons why the trip to Ocracoke was a memorable one.

The school on the island was part of the Hyde County administrative unit although neither I nor my teachers, because of the transportation problem, ever attended a meeting of the school personnel of the County. The County Superintendent made what he thought would be a short visit to our school during the year, but because of a storm the trip was prolonged over two or more days. In a sense the island was separate and apart from the rest of the county in both the school and law enforcing areas. There was no peace officer on the island; no cop or sheriff was available unless called and transported from the county seat, Swan Quarter. Surprisingly enough lawlessness was not a problem. Ocracoke in those days was sometimes referred to as a “Sportsman’s Paradise” which it might have been in spite of the unsportsmanlike sportsman. Blackbeard in his day found it a good hide-a-way spot. Perhaps no place along the outer banks offered more seclusion and freedom from molestation by the law than did Ocracoke. Many of the sportsmen when they came brought along their drink against the possibility that such was not available on the island and to make sure that their stay conformed to the sportsman’s ideal of a real vacation. This is not said with any disrespect to the natives but merely to point up the fact that a situation of this kind did exist. I saw and knew very little about what went on in the sportsmen’s circle. I discovered, however, when there was a program and a gathering of people at the school that, for the school-house area at least, the principal was expected to enforce the peace and maintain order.

We left Ocracoke after the close of school to move again in another circle, one that was still in the pinch of the depression. …

We left Ocracoke via the freight boat to Washington. The Browns met us at this point. They said this was as near as they wanted to go to Ocracoke. That visit they made at Thanksgiving was still vivid in their minds. We missed the life on the island that we had become accustomed to: the light house, the mail boat, the gulls, the neighbors that had been kind to us. We had learned to feel at home with the congregation at the Methodist church.

Escaping from the confines of Ocracoke Island was, I suppose, somewhat like escaping from prison. It was good to be back on the mainland where there was plenty of space.


The Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified on January 16, 1920. The amendment reads, in part, “After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all the territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited.”

After nearly thirteen years, the 18th Amendment was repealed by the ratification of the 21st Amendment, on December 5, 1933.

Prohibition against the sale of alcoholic beverages resulted in widespread bootlegging and rum running. From the very beginning, all manner of vessels were employed for smuggling alcoholic beverages from the French islands in Newfoundland, Canada, the Bahamas, and Mexico to coastal cities and towns in the United States.

The Outer Banks, in a strategic position on the east coast, saw its share of rum running.

On August 13, 1921, lookouts at the Portsmouth Island and Ocracoke Coast Guard Stations spotted a two-masted British schooner, the Messenger of Peace, hailing from Nassau, ashore on the north side of Ocracoke inlet. Both stations sent boats to offer assistance.

The ship’s captain reported that he had been seeking a port where he could obtain fresh water. Coast Guard personnel brought three barrels of water, and, after one failed attempt to free the vessel, they were successful in refloating the schooner in the early morning hours of August 14.

Within 24 hours a heavy blow once again forced the Messenger of Peace ashore. She was refloated at 3 p.m. However, remarks by some of the crew led Coast Guard officers to suspect she had been engaged in smuggling liquor into the United States. A search revealed no contraband, or so it was reported, and the vessel was released.

Four months later, at 4 p.m. on December 30, 1921, the lookout in the Portsmouth Island Coast Guard Station reported that a schooner had run ashore on the south side of Ocracoke Inlet.

It was the Messenger of Peace. The vessel was again refloated and boarded. Using the same explanation that he had offered in August, the Captain claimed that he was seeking a port where he could obtain food, water, and fuel (the schooner had been fitted with a 45 hp engine).

It turned out that the schooner was loaded with more than 1,000 cases of illegal liquor worth $100,000. The schooner and her crew were seized, and officials of the state Prohibition Commissions in Raleigh and Wilmington were notified, but not before Portsmouth islanders had an opportunity to partake of her bounty.

The Messenger of Peace had a colorful history. According to Robert Carse in his book, Rum Row, “Even a member of the clergy felt the call to fortune. The Reverend Mr. Dunn, who had worked long years at the propagation of the gospel through the Out Islands [in the Bahamas], resigned to become the master of [the] rum runner, [Messenger of Peace].”

Official reports of the seizure of the rum runner at Ocracoke Inlet neglected to include Portsmouth islanders’ enthusiastic reception of the stranded vessel. According to James E. White, III, in his book, Paradise Lost, an Oral History of Portsmouth Island, the Messenger of Peace was “full of rum and whiskey. The people on Portsmouth got that booze and divided it up.”

Carse relates that when the Messenger of Peace arrived at Ocracoke Inlet the captain “slid two cases of whiskey soundlessly over the stern for the crew of the Coast Guard patrol boat that pulled his craft clear into the channel. The county sheriff, however, …arrested the captain….” When he was released, Carse notes, it was with “the best wishes of the sheriff and shouts to return soon from the citizens.”

In 1969 Julian Gilgo recorded an interview with his grandmother, Mattie Gilgo (1885-1976). She was 36 years old when the rum runner ran ashore, and she remembered it with considerable amusement.

Speaking about the Messenger of Peace, Mattie Gilgo says, “Blessed Lord, she was nothing but whiskey, beer and wine. She come right on [chuckle] right on up almost to the [Life-Saving] Station dock [chuckle], that she did [chuckle]. Henry [Pigott] and Joe Roberts had it stacked up. He sold it. Henry, black Henry, were on his right legs [wasn’t drunk]. They made him a millionaire [chuckle] I mind [might] as well say. The money they paid him…God only knows.”

Mattie Gilgo’s son, Cecil (1912-1995), in a conversation with Ellen Cloud, recollected that Coast Guard officers became suspicious when they noticed the hatches on the Messenger of Peace were all sealed. When the captain and crew were taken ashore, three Coast Guardsmen were put on board. Cecil Gilgo explains that they opened the hatches. Soon, “word got out that it was whiskey,” and “they had a lot of visitors that night.”

When asked why the Messenger of Peace came into Portsmouth, Mattie Gilgo explains: “Why, Mac, Charlie Mac [Charles McWilliams], he got word to ‘em some way or the other, to bring it…bring some in. He and Wash [Washington Roberts] [chuckle],…when he got in there, the Captain went up to John Wallace’s, to have supper on the other end of the island [chuckle, chuckle]. The men went aboard and took charge of [chuckle] his whiskey [chuckle]. Lord, it was buried everywhere. It was buried in the hills, on the beach [chuckle], and I reckon there’s some there today. Some of it washed out by storms and tides, ‘cause some of it they couldn’t find. They had buried it [chuckle] but couldn’t find where they buried it. Abner, he had it buried in the wood house. He took the floor up and buried it under [chuckle] the house.”

Miss Gilgo continues with a degree of irony: “I reckon they all got drunk. There was Wash…now I don’t know ‘bout Captain Leonard [Williams]. I wouldn’t say if Mr. Leonard got drunk or not. There was Wash and Walter Yeomans [Officer in Charge, Portsmouth Coast Guard Station], you know he didn’t [chuckle] touch any of it, he’s a Harker’s Islander….”

Cecil Gigo echoes Mattie Gilgo’s recollections, saying “there were more drunks on Portsmouth then than there ever was at one place at one time.” In addition to native islanders, a group of hunters who were staying at Tom Bragg’s club house, learned of the illegal whiskey. By the time the revenuers arrived, “half the whiskey [was] gone.”

Mattie Gilgo laughs when she recollects those days: “Lord have mercy, why he [the ship’s Captain] stayed around Portsmouth. Walked around with his hands in his pockets…Let’s see now, what was his name? The boat’s name was the Message [Messenger] of Peace…that was the boat’s name….he [the captain] was a foreigner, he was not our nationality. I don’t remember what become of the crew.” According to Cecil Gilgo, the captain was eventually tried in New Bern, and sent to prison, but the Portsmouth islanders, thanks to the influence of the wealthy hunters, were released.

The 1920s were exciting times for Outer Bankers!

In 1923 another prohibition-era rum runner ran aground near Harker’s Island. The story of the misadventures of the Adventure is celebrated in the song “The Booze Yacht” (sung to the tune of “The Sidewalks of New York”), written by Ralph Sanders, and popularized by Ivey Scott. (The ”Beehive” was Cleveland Davis’ general store.) The song could have been written about the Messenger of Peace.

Down around the “Beehive,” Harker’s Island retreat,
Every night and morning the fishermen would meet.
One day there came a rounder; came running by the door,
Said, “Boys, let’s go to Cape Lookout;
There’s a Booze Yacht run ashore.”

This way, that way, to the Cape they’d run.
The coming of the Adventure, put the fishing on the bum.
Some lost their religion and back-slid by the score,
The “King Lock” stoppers they stood waist high
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.

Times have changed since those days.
When some were up in their “Gs”.
Others, they are down and out, but most feel just like me.
Some would give a hundred, and some a little bit more,
To see another time like that
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.

This way, that way, to the Cape they’d run.
The coming of the Adventure, put the fishing on the bum.
Some lost their religion and back-slid by the score,
The “King Lock” stoppers they stood waist high
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.


Story & Photos by Crystal Canterbury (Click here for Part I)

In 1894 a United States Life Saving Station (U.S.L.S.S.) was established on Portsmouth and became an important part of the community for the next 43 years. The U.S.L.S.S. is one of the buildings that can be explored, and inside you’ll be able to see the Crew’s quarters, rescue boats, rescue cart, and lookout tower. Philip Howard explained whoever was on lookout duty stayed in the tower for two-hour shifts, and was not allowed any distractions, not even a book. An unnamed Surfman described life at the Station by saying, “…it is hours and hours and weeks upon end of excruciating boredom interrupted occasionally by a few minutes of sheer terror!”

Located in the large room displaying two rescue boats, you’ll also see the rescue cart, as well as a detailed discription and large drawing of how the surfmen would save sailors from wrecks. The rescue cart weights about 1,000 pounds and looks like an over-sized wheelbarrow.

The Beach Cart:

Philip asked us how we thought the cart was taken to the beach. I thought to myself, “Wild horses, of course.” That seemed like a reasonable guess considering how many wild ponies once roamed the Outer Banks, but I was completely wrong. The crew, ranging in number from six to eight men, transported the cart and supplies to the beach through extreme and harsh weather conditions.

Rope, a breeches buoy (a life-ring with attached shorts), a small cannon-like piece of equipment  called a Lyle gun (used to shoot rope to the distressed vessel), a sand anchor, and two large wooden poles called a “crotch” were kept in the cart. The sand anchor was placed on the ground to keep the crotch steady and upright, and once the Lyle gun had successfully gotten rope and the breeches buoy to the sailors, the surfmen began bringing them to shore one at a time. The crotch was designed to keep the sailor in the breeches buoy above the water to prevent drowning. On the shore, four or five surfmen would stand behind the crotch and pull the sailor in the breeches buoy to the shore, while the other two or three surfmen kept the rope circulating to the wrecked vessel.Once the rescue was complete, the surfmen packed everything back into the cart and pushed it back to the station.

The Breeches Buoy:

Beginning in 1894 and continuing for the next twenty-three years, the U.S.L.S.S. on Portsmouth operated from August 1 through May 31. Beginning 1917, the station was used year-round until it was placed out of commission on June 1, 1937.

Once exiting the Life Saving Station, we went to the left, walking along a dirt and sand trail that goes through a maritime forest. This trail eventually ends at the beach and along the way visitors will pass (and maybe even use) a compost restroom. Considering the remoteness of Portsmouth, said compost restroom really isn’t too bad. There are two stalls, both having toilet paper and hand santizer. Let’s be honest…it could worse…a lot worse.

Anyway, we were unable to venture to the beach on this trip, but not because of a lack of time or desire. The beach and mudflats had been flooded due to rain and also wind pushing the surf up, so we opted to stay on drier ground. Tucked back on another trail, which is connected to, but more narrow, than the one leading to the beach, is a Sea Captain’s Cemetery. The quarter-mile walk ends at a small clearing where two headstones are placed, and date back to the early 1800’s. You’ll see signs directing you to the beach, and then one labeling the quarter-mile stretch to the Captain’s graves.

Seamen’s Graves:

The Lionel and Emma Gilgo House (built circa 1926) was our next stop. Inside the grayish-blue cottage are photos of the Portsmouth families and their family trees. Some of the photos displayed were of residents who had gathered on another’s front porch. The people who lived in the small village would gather as family and friends, often playing music, as made evident by the photos. I asked Philip about what instruments were used to entertain. He said guitar, violin, and parlor organ most likely, plus possibly someone playing harmonica and triangle were used by the villagers to create music.

One notable and unexpected photo displayed in this home is one of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. In 1915 the thirty-three-year-old Assistant Secretary of the Navy was on Portsmouth Island for a visit. In the photo, the man wearing a black suit in the oxcart is Mr. Roosevelt. The photo was taken six years before he began experiencing symptoms from contracting polio.

President Roosevelt:

As we gradually made our back to the starting point, Philip showed us the Harry and Lida Dixon House (no date available) and Jesse and Lillian Babb House, which had been built around 1916. If you face the UMC, both yellow cottages are to the right and can be explored. The rooms are small, the doorways fairly narrow, and the ceilings low. In what would’ve been the living room in the Dixon House, a wood-burning stove is in place, and in the kitchen a well-water pump is still attached near the sink. This home also has a small room attached to its left side that looks like it was just kind of plopped down next to the main part of the house. We also got to look through the windows of the Ed, Nora, and Elma Dixon House (built circa 1910), located in the same open area as the previously mentioned homes.

The Washington Roberts House, which is across the lane from the three homes previously listed, is different from all the other homes in village for a couple reasons. To start, it has high ceilings and fairly big rooms. Its unique construction, which has allowed it to be one of the oldest standing homes not just on Portsmouth, but also on the Outer Banks, also makes it stand out. Built in 1840, the home has been dubbed the “Hurricane House” or “Storm House” because it was able to withstand high winds. During severe weather other Portsmouth residents would stay at the Washington Roberts House because it was such a sturdy structure.

The Washington Roberts House:

By now, we were all hungry. Some other people on the tour had gone to eat after visiting the Captain’s Graves, so after exploring for a bit longer, the rest of us were ready to unpack our lunches left at the Theodore and Anne Salter House. As we meandered away from the Washington Roberts House, which was to our left, we passed the UMC to our right, and went over the small wooden bridges. We again saw the George and Patsy Dixon House to our left, the schoolhouse and Cecil and Leona Gilgo House (off to our far left), and the Post Office before arriving at our starting point.

Once we were done eating, we still had time to venture out and do some last minute exploring. Behind the Theodore and Anne Salter House is the Jody Styron and Tom Bragg House (built circa 1927). The large home has a big “driveway” leading up to the property, which was quite muddy the day of our visit. A large tree has grown in the area immediately leading up to the covered porch, almost perfectly centered in front of the home. Going back toward the Post Office and down the lane to the left of the Walker and Sarah Styron House, more remnants of homes and cisterns can be seen. As I tried to capture some more photos, my camera’s battery was fully drained of power, so my camera shut off (insert sad face here: L). At this juncture (woe is me!!! I was being dramatic… to myself), I had no choice but to rely on my cell phone’s camera to shoot just a few more photos.

Just before 3 o’clock that afternoon, Donald Austin arrived at the dock. On our return trip I sat as close as I could to Austin, making sure to avoid any water that could spray up. Just as on our way to Portsmouth, Austin slowed the boat to tell us some interesting factoids. As we approached Silver Lake Harbor, he showed us the wreck of a shrimp trawler, part of which can be seen poking out of the water, and the story of how it got there. He also pointed out how the lamp-room and balcony of Ocracoke’s Lighthouse are off-centered depending on where you are when you observe it. He said this is due to the way the winding staircase and hatches at the top were designed and subsequently constructed. So the next time you’re visiting Ocracoke, check out the lighthouse from various locations. You’ll definitely see what Donald Austin is talking about. Or take a tour with Donald or one of the other Austins. If they’re like Donald, and I’m figuring they are, you’re going to have a fun, entertaining, and enlightening boat ride.

For more about Portsmouth Island, visit the Friends of Portsmouth Island Facebook page and/or check out the Cape Lookout National Seashore website.

For more about Portsmouth Island, visit You’ll get all the necessary information required to contact the Austins.

I feel it’s right to mention and thank Philip Howard because he helped me with this article. I had neglected to record some of the names of equipment used by the U.S.L.S.S., as well as musical instruments used by the residents.