North Carolina’s Outer Banks… A Different World

I still remember the first time I fished the Outer Banks like it was yesterday. I met up with four of my college buddies from my days at the University of North Carolina. We had decided that, since we were getting a bit older, we should come together annually and enjoy the North Carolina coast. While none of us claimed to be great anglers, a couple of the guys were actually pretty handy with a rod and reel, even in a challenging environment like the Outer Banks.

The drive down felt endless: nothing but two-lane roads, stretches of marsh, and the smell of saltwater sneaking in through the windows. By the time I crossed the Bonner Bridge and rolled onto Hatteras, I could feel it in my chest, that excitement you only get when you know the ocean is just over the dunes.

We set up on the beach before sunrise that first day. Rods planted in the sand spikes, lines cast just past the breakers. The tide was pushing in, and the water was alive. You could see mullet flashing in the waves, and every now and then the surface exploded with bluefish chasing bait. For a while, I wasn’t sure we’d even see any action. It’s a doubt seasoned anglers rarely get, but when your fishing days are infrequent, it’s always the first thought that creeps in. Still, I wasn’t too worried, I was standing in one of the most beautiful places on earth. A place with a history of everything from pirates to TV shows, and a reputation as one of the best fishing locations in the world. That alone was enough to make for a
great weekend, even if I didn’t catch a single fish.

It wasn’t long before my rod bowed over, the clicker screaming. I grabbed it and felt that first surge of power, something pulling harder than anything I’d ever tangled with inshore. It turned out to be a drum. Not a big one by OBX standards, but big enough to make me sweat and grin ear to ear when I slid him onto the sand. That happened a couple more times that first day, which made it far better than I expected. On the way back to our
hotel, I thought hard about the day and realized I didn’t catch those fish because I was a great fisherman. I caught them because I was in a great fishing place, and that’s what truly made the day memorable.

Later that night, my college friends and I kicked back, filling up on the fish we’d caught while each of us took turns telling our version of the day’s stories and making predictions about how tomorrow would be even better.

As the night went on, the conversation slowly shifted back to our days at UNC. With the laughter growing louder, the stories stretched further than an Outer Banks buoy. It was one of those great nights with old friends, and before we knew it, our phones reminded us it was nearly 9:00 p.m., time for bed.

Over the next two days we caught redfish and blues in good numbers, and before long we started to feel like real anglers. But on the last day, things got quieter. Each of us realized this year’s Outer Banks trip was almost over. In just a few hours we’d be heading back
to the real world, a world of traffic, bills, and all the responsibilities that don’t exist on the Outer Banks. The same Outer Banks where, year after year, I still come to spend time with the same friends I knew as kids, friends who, like me, are now fathers and even grandfathers.

This year’s Outer Banks trip was almost over. In just a few hours we’d be heading back to the real world, a world of traffic, bills, and all the responsibilities that don’t exist on the Outer Banks. The same Outer Banks where, year after year, I still come to spend time with the same friends I knew as kids, friends who, like me, are now fathers and even grandfathers.

Every trip to the Outer Banks teaches me something new. This time I learned that, while it’s one of the greatest fishing spots in the world, it’s also a special place where memories and friendships grow more valuable with every year. Those memories are priceless.

See you next year, North Carolina Outer Banks. I love you!