So you wanna check out Ocracoke to punctuate your Outer Banks experience? You’ve heard all about the 16 miles and 775 acres of myrtle shrubs and yaupons, about Blackbeard’s final battle, about the quasi-Elizabethan accents, about the crab-cake sandwiches, about the 700 or so year-round residents and the slow pace of community life that defines their existence.
But what about the surf?
There have been just as many surfers who’ve been skunked in Ocracoke than those who have scored. Only the locals know its true potential, and they haven’t exactly been describing their breaks on the Internet. Most frequenters have commented on the quickness of the waves, sometimes describing them as too racy to surf. They also speak of unspeakable perfection in the summer, when freak south swells march in and just as quickly march off, away from the Shoals and the starved Dare beaches.
Unfortunately, there are no real individual breaks to discuss, so you’re on your own. Perhaps check out the Visitors’ Center at Silver Lake, near the ferry slip. You can get information here on the location of some of the shipwrecks on Ocracoke. Maybe some local will clue you in on the waves, and you’ll be one of the lucky few to come home victorious. After all, just like with any break, sometimes after a shitload of misses, there’s a hit. And that’s what surfing on the Outer Banks is all about — patience. After years of the good stuff missing your favorite break, one day there is a hit and you’re the guy on the beach, in the water, on the peak, in the tube.
Pea Island:
Cruising south from Nags Head, you will inevitably arrive at Whalebone Junction, where the bridge connecting Roanoke Island attaches to the Dare beaches. From here, you can set your sights toward the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, a 75-mile stretch of islands from South Nags Head to Ocracoke.
Hatteras, in the collective sense, is especially vulnerable to the combined effects of intense winds, abnormally high tides and heavy flooding due to tropical systems. The highway through the Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge has been redesigned and pushed inland toward the Sound as storm activity continues to threaten this thin, 13-mile strip of sand. Before entering Pea Island, though, you will pass over the three-mile arch of Herbert C. Bonner Bridge, erected in 1963, which spans Oregon Inlet and connects Bodie Island to Hatteras Island. You can become part of one of the most picturesque scenes on the island when you cross over the Bonner Bridge at sunrise or sunset. Picture yourself squinting through a salt-caked windshield at the sun glistening off the waters below and maybe, just maybe, a wave breaking in the distance.
Once you arrive on Pea Island, you know you’re in Hatteras. Sea oats, cacti, herons, 5,000 acres of marshland and not much more on this ribbon of sand — except the ocean. This is one place that has no true spots, but little lumps of sand that turn on and off with the ebb and flow of tides and the push and pull of winds. A good first check would be at the first visitor center you see. This spot is appropriately named “The Boiler” for the partially submerged boilerplate of a wrecked ship extending out of the water, hundreds of yards from shore. Years ago, many island surfers could be found cutting class to take their youth energy out on The Boiler’s waves. In recent years, however, the wave has drifted to some other spot on Pea Island. Only time will tell when it will reemerge as the wave-rich playground it used to be. You’re best bet for finding the prime spot is to look for a bunch of cars parked along the road and follow their lead — just be careful not to bury your wheels in the soft sand. If you’re looking to avoid the most popular break, Pea Island’s pretty empty, and there should be no problem finding your own peak. Just be prepared to haul ass over the high dunes and don’t be surprised if you see the occasional topless sunbather. It’s a wildlife refuge, so that type of thing is decriminalized (spanking it in the dune-line, however, may not be).