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Ocracoke Journal: Letters from 1985
By PAT GARBER The letters I wrote to my parents in 1985 are strewn around me, on the table and on the floor. As I re-read them I find myself drifting back 22 years. Having spent Christmas with my folks in Richmond, I drove back to Ocracoke in mid-January. There were not many people on the island, and it was cold in the little marsh-side cottage I rented. January 20, 1985 Dear Mom and Pop, I got to Ocracoke okay, after that little problem I had with my car in Norfolk. It seems to be doing okay now. It’s good to be here, but after spending almost a month with you all it’s pretty lonely. And cold! Your central heat and wood stove sure were nice! Trying to keep this kerosene stove going is almost a full-time job in itself, and I don’t get paid for it! Now I have to find work and things to do so that I don’t get too lonely and depressed. Duchess and I went to the beach today. I took my binoculars and watched the birds and a big boat that is beached on a shoal out there. I also watched a squall blow in. We’re in for a stormy evening; the electricity is already out. Thank goodness I bought new wicks for my oil lantern. February 6 Duchess cut her foot running out in the Sound a couple days ago, and Boy what a baby! She didn’t think she could possibly get off the couch, so I had to feed her up there, bring her water, and really coddle her. By the next morning she decided that being an invalid was boring, so she got better fast after that. I’ve been reading a lot, “A Hundred Years of Solitude,” an unusual prize winner by Gabriel Marques, and a book of essays by Gary Snyder. I got them at the library—did I tell you about the tiny library they have here? They say it was in the Guiness Book of World Records as the smallest library in the U.S. I wouldn’t be surprised. March 12 I started back at the Anchorage Inn, cleaning rooms. Scott (the owner of the Anchorage Inn) has decided to tighten up on his housekeeping crew since he is paying us $6 an hour, so I wasn’t sure he would agree for me to bring Duchess along again, but he did. I like the people there. It’s very laid back and relaxed, and now there is MTV, so I can listen to music while I work! And since Duchess is helping me, I get the third floor, which has a great view of the harbor. I can watch the boats come in and the birds peck around on the docks. I’m gonna start waitressing at Captain Ben’s next week. It’s supposed to be good tips, but I have to wear a black and white uniform, which I can’t say I’m crazy about. I just learned a new way of saying you’ve had too much to drink. I was at the Three Quarter Time bar and met a local guy who’d obviously had a few. He described himself as "rum-dum, beerified and vodkie-fried," which I thought was an excellent self-evaluation. March 20 I had the most fun at work yesterday, even though I thought it might cost me my job cleaning rooms. One of the guests was really obnoxious (which most guests are not). She was middle-aged, dumpy, and, guessing by her accent, a Yankee. She was, I suspect, what you call "new money," Mom. I had been trying to do her room all morning, offering her the choice of having me clean it while she was there or of leaving for a few minutes. She answered me each time with snobbish disdain, refusing to be inconvenienced by the needs of a mere motel maid. When it was time for me to go home, I knocked on her door to tell her that I was leaving, but would give her clean towels and fresh soap. With an expression of annoyance and a haughty ai,r she responded that she was nearly ready to go to breakfast now, so I could clean her room in five minutes. I had had it by then, though, so I very sweetly said, in my best Southern accent, "I nevva clean rooms for rude people." The shock on her face was amusing. "What did you say?" I repeated myself, still smiling sweetly. Huffing with outrage, she exclaimed “We'll see about that!" and then informed me that she was going to tell the manager. "Why Ma'am," I said with what I hoped was a "sugar wouldt melt in your mouth" manner, "You can do better than that. I'll take you to the owner." I strolled along before her, swinging my size 5 hips a little more than usual,until I spotted Scott in the office. Asking her to wait outside, I told him that one of our guests had a complaint to make. "She's upset," I said, "because I refused to clean her room." Scott looked at me with a guarded expression so I added, "She was rude to me." Giving me an unreadable look, he said to tell her he'd be there in a moment. I did so, enjoying every minute. I didn’t really think Scott would fire me, but seeing that incredulous, shocked expression on her face was worth losing a job anyway. I waited outside, and in a few minutes, he came out and told me he'd taken care of it. He frowned sternly, but I could tell he was trying to repress a grin, and I’m still scheduled to work tomorrow. I saved up my tip money from my new waitress job and, on my next trip back to Richmond, I bought a small used sailboat. I strapped it to the top of my car and brought it back to Ocracoke. April 2 I named my sailboat the Kittiwake. I got permission to keep it on the little beach near my house, and I can launch it myself, although it’s pretty hard getting the sail up the mast. I go sailing whenever I have a chance, and I am improving, though it’s not always easy in these waters. I still don’t do too well when the wind is blowing hard, and I have to tack (sail back and forth into the wind). But I love it. It’s so beautiful being out there alone with just the wind and the sea and the gulls. I went sailing when I got home today, and I experienced what I had been warned about—the wind “kicking up” suddenly. It switched abruptly from a mild southwester to a hard nor’easter (Aren’t you impressed that I know that?) and about flipped the boat over. Don’t worry. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal. I would have just gotten wet. But I was pretty darned glad to get back in. My arms are sore from trying to hold it steady. I wanted to try and live off the sea, and several of my new fishermen friends provided me with crab pot and nets and showed me what to do. Don gave me a crab pot and a fish net, so I’m ready to start feeding myself!! He helped me put out the stakes for the net yesterday, and we’ll hang the net tomorrow. (It’s called a gill net, which is different from the pound nets Tom has.) Then I’ll haul my crab pot out in my sailboat and set it out and, “Voila,” I’ll be ready for a seafood dinner! I went out Tuesday and got a mess of clams, which I’m gonna steam tonight. (Notice that I’m learning to speak the proper local jargon.) I’ve been making my own bread and picking blackberries to make jam. April 12 Today is my day off, and I’m enjoying it. I sailed the Kittiwake out to check my net and my crab pot, and I just finished eating crabs, which I steamed—neat, huh? I got a nice flounder in my net, about 18 inches long. Bobby had shown me earlier how to fillet it, and I did pretty well. Crabs had already eaten two other fish when I got there, but there was a little sand shark, which I fed to the cats and will use to bait the crab pot for tomorrow. Bryan is supposed to get here next week. It will be nice having family here. My 18-year-old nephew, Bryan, came to live with me for several months, and he loved island life nearly as much as I did. Bryan and I practically lived off oysters and clams while he was here. He caught a pretty good-sized shark with my clam rake! Can you believe it? So we ate a lot of his shark too, fixing it every way we could think of. One day he went out with Bobby to fish his crab pots and they got 750 pounds! April 17 I’ve been watching a tree frog which on the outside of my window. It’s fascinating—he’s feasting on the bugs and moths that are attracted to my light. He really wants one moth that seems to be too big for him. He’s caught it several times and the moth gets away, but doesn’t leave. Dumb moth! Someone gave me a neat old wringer washing machine, and Tony picked it up for me. Then he came over for pizza and a glass of wine. Bryan and I will try out the washing machine tomorrow. Later: We cranked up the washing machine yesterday and washed two loads of clothes. It’s definitely not a Kenmore, but it works. It’s outside and you have to fill it up with a hose, and everything is manual. I tried out new jobs as I struggled to make ends meet and pay my bills. May 4 Last week I refinished a bartop my friends Sandy and Greg built for their new business, “On Their Banks.” I worked as a bartender there Friday night, and it was a blast. It’s on a porch and very informal. Not a lot of customers, but cool people and not too late. I plan to work there three nights a week. The transmission in my car is about to die--at least that’s what Andy says, and I have a feeling he’s right. He says it’s not worth fixing, so I guess I need to make enough money this summer to but another car. I continued to enjoy the wonderful world of nature that surrounds me in the salt marsh where I lived. May 15 I saw a glossy ibis the other day, a most impressive bird. There are lots of fiddler crabs out and about now, I often see them beside my road. And the hermit crabs are back –I see them when I go sailing. I had a frog jump in my frying pan one night while I was cooking supper for Bill. Scared me to death, but I don’t think it hurt the frog too badly, since he jumped out so fast. Then I had to catch him so I could put him outside. I’m putting in a garden and I’m so excited. My plants arrive tomorrow by mail bus (tomatoes, peppers, cabbage, and cauliflower). For the rest, I’ll plant seeds. Bryan helped me put horse manure from the pony pens and sawdust from one of the job sites in the soil to build it up. Greg says he’ll buy tomatoes from me for his restaurant. All good things have to end, and as summer approached I decided that the time was drawing near for me to leave the island. May 25, 1985 Life is so beautiful here that I hate to think of leaving. But I can’t stay in this house forever. Calvin and Andy are thinking about renting it by the week this summer and living somewhere else on the island, would be such a letdown after being here. I know it’s silly, but I wish there was some way I could buy it. Talk about “living in a shining palace built upon the sand!” I’m definitely living my life one day at a time…I’ve applied for a teaching job on the Havasupai Indian Reservation, at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. If I get the job, I’ll be going west again …Happy Mothers Day, Mom I got the job two months later and packed everything I owned (pets included) into my friend, Andy’s, pickup truck. He gave me a ride to Richmond, where I bought a used truck Three days later I was on my way to a new life in the Grand Canyon. (Pat Garber has written columns and articles for local publications and is also the author of two books, “Ocracoke Wild,” and “Ocracoke Odyssey,” which are both about her life on Ocracoke and the natural world there.)   |
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