The coastal storm is forecast to bring us wind and rain, high surf and rip currents through the weekend.
I arrived at the Hatteras Ferry landing with my husband Will and our two dogs, Harley and Porter, around 11:30 this morning. We knew a regularly scheduled departure from Hatteras to Ocracoke was canceled due to mechanical issues, so we were prepared for the wait with deli sandwiches and snacks for our dogs. As we approached the stacking lanes, we were both stunned by the amount of visitors waiting to get onto a ferry. We were directed into the Priority Lane, where we waited patiently for a ferry to arrive. During the following thirty minutes we ate lunch, and enjoyed the cooler tempertures and wind. The cooler air and strong wind were especially nice. The driver's side front window in my vehicle will roll down, but not back up, so having three of four windows properly working was just fine on a day like today.
I had been hearing all this chitter chatter about possible ferry trip cancelations due to wind, plus warnings from local meteorologists about strong coastal winds, so I'm thinking this ferry ride across to Ocracoke may not even happen. It was absolutely more than a typical ocean breeze, but it wasn't a hurricane.
Will and I had spent the previous six days with my parents. Three days were spent on Ocracoke, then on Sunday we all went to Avon. Will and I rented a house about 2.5 miles south of where my parents were staying, so Monday morning we rented bicycles (well, I rented a tricycle, he rented a bicycle) and off we went, being tourists! It was great!
Sunday and Monday were pretty windy. Maybe even blustery. We took the dogs out for a walk near Ramp 38 in Avon Sunday afternoon, and Harley, our 100-pound pit/lab mix who's solid muscle, was (at the very best) displeased. When we turned north to head back to the car, Harley began walking almost sideways to keep the wind from blowing sand in his face. I think he may have been seeking shelter in the dunes, but we stuck to the surf, where the sand was more packed. When we returned to our vehicle, Harley jumped higher and faster than ever before as he got into the back. He was definitely relieved to be out of the wind.
Monday was just as blustery. This low-pressure system was a bit stronger than I thought it would be, but we weren't going to let it ruin our vacation. Will and I must have looked like idiots, though, peddling our way into the wind in a not-so-graceful manner. A distance that should have taken about 20 minutes to peddle took us about 30, but we knew the return trip would far easier. After we ate lunch with my parents we headed out, stopping at a few shops along the way. During the jaunt back to our house, it began to rain. Really, really rain. And the wind was whipping the rain around, so we were getting drenched from every angle. But we made it back to the house, to two very happy dogs, and I learned that my backpack is truly waterproof. Woo hoo!
I was bound and determined to get on the Avon Pier, something I have always enjoyed doing. So Tuesday morning we peddled up there, paid the "sightseer" fee, and out we went. Seconds after walking onto the pier we realized how strong the wind was. The ocean looked angry and the pier was moving. Like really moving. The waves were battering the pier, making the end shake and rattle. But I was set on getting some good photos, so I stayed there for about ten minutes, bravely snapping shots of the churned up waves and foam, trying not to panic each time a large wave smacked into the pier.
This moring before check-out, we noticed the Pamlico Sound looked a bit choppy. When we got into Hatteras Village, we grabbed lunch at Hatteras Sol, then made the final approach to the ferry docks.
As I mentioned before, the stacking lanes were packed. We knew three runs had been canceled, so when the W. Stanford White docked, I was ready and happy to board. As the passengers drove off the W. Stanford White, I noticed windshield wipers fiercly propellng cleaning fluid across windshields. I also noticed the bewildered and dazed look on many of the motorists' faces, and thought to myself "Hmm...". Still, when we were given the signal to load, I drove up happily.
We were parked on the port side of the boat, one row from the edge. Following the signs that warn people to remain in their vehicles until departure, I exited my SUV only once we began moving. As I opened my door, I held on tightly, half expecting the door to be violently ripped from my hands - causing it to dent the large truck parked next to us -, my presciption sunglesses to be launched onto the deck, and the personal mayhem that was sure to follow to be loud and embarrassing. None of the happened. In actuality, it was quite pleasant. I propped myself up against the hood of my car and enjoyed the mild temperature and cooling wind.
I hadn't been comfortably propped against my vehicle for more than ten minutes when a Very Friendly Ferry Man (this, of course, isn't an official title, but I regretfully failed to read his nametag, so Very Friendly Ferry Man it is) asked, "Miss, is this your car?" I replied that yes, he was in fact pointing to my car, then he said, "You may want to get in it. We will be turning soon. You're about to get soaked." I thanked him for the warning and got back in my car. I told John Crowe, who was parked next to us on the ferry, what the Very Friendly Ferry Man had told me, and he too took his advice and got prepared for the possibility we were about to get a lot of overwash.
As the Captain began the turn the vessel, I quickly realized why the previous passengers, who were no doubt on or near the front of the ferry, looked bewildered. Water came crashing over the ferry's bow, splashing salty sound water onto all four vehicles up front. The few passengers who decided to not return to their vehicles earlier did so quickly now, laughing as they went in between my vehicle and another to get to the observation deck.
After a few minutes of splashes and almost no rockin' or rollin', I decided that rolling down the three properly functioning windows would be okay. We were all relieved to feel the wind enter the vehicle. Harley and Porter popped up their heads, breathing in the fresh air.
Then, we turned ever so slightly, and (this is no joke) waves came crashing (and I mean really crashing) over the front of the ferry, pounding the same four vehicles, and making loud smacking sounds as it came into contact with our windshields. Behind us I could hear the Ohhhhhhhhh's and Oooooooo's and laughter coming from the passengers standing outside on the viewing deck as each large wave curled and splashed over the front of the ferry. The folks watching from the observation deck sounded very much like people I've heard standing on the bridge at the bottom of log plunge rides at amusement parks. Hearing all that laughing and carrying on was infectious, and I too began chuckling, realizing how incredible this ferry ride was becoming.
But the most wild part of the ride was yet to happen. I am honestly not sure if we changed directions or if the wind increased or maybe a combination of the two occured because my windshield looked more like a waterfall than a slab of glass, but the next few minutes were unreal.
Over and over and over again, huge wave after huge wave after huge wave pummeled the four vehicles up front. The reaction caused by the water coming into contact with the ferry was powerful. Inside my vehicle, I cringed. I knew that nothing horrible was going to happen, but when a wall of water is coming right at you, consuming your vehicle, and making a loud BANG! each time it plowed into your winshield, you may cringe a bit. Yet still, we were not rockin' or rollin'. Then, we turned and made the final approach to Ocracoke.
The sound of the engine was a whisper compared to the noise we had just experienced, and with the wind now at our backs, people began to exit their vehicles and move around.
I rushed up to the observation deck, hoping someone got photos of the waves. Sure enough, some had been taken, and they was impressive. A lot of water came on the boat and washed over cars, and was even felt by the folks who were upstairs on the observation deck. After I viewed some of the photos that had been snapped from up above, I was kind of amazed my car even started when we docked. It looked like I was driving into a watery abyss. It was incredible.
The Captain and crew of the W. Stanford White were also incredible. I can't imagine what steering a ferry or working on the deck must be like in calm conditions, let alone in adverse weather. Even though the ride was eventful and wet, it was pretty smooth, all things considered. And thank you to the Very Friendly Ferry Man for giving us a heads up about what was to come.
Once we got back home, I promptly exited our SUV. I'm pretty sure, despite the loud gusts of wind, I heard it rusting. Will was kind enough to rinse it off.
