The parking lot at the Visitor's Center, where we had picnicked last year, was occupied by a large, aggresive group of hungry sea gulls; they swarmed overhead, probably in anticipation of the junk food that is even more harmful to them than to humans.
The wind was still pretty brisk, too, so we drove back under the trees to the Museum and found some quiet, secluded picnic tables undiscovered by the sea gulls and sheltered from the wind. What a treat it was to sit under the trees and eat a simple lunch of smoked salmon, kale salad, and a baguette of French bread. It made us feel European in some way.
The Museum is a treasure, its first floor devoted mostly to interesting exhibits about life in "Downeast," which this part of North Carolina is called, including hundreds of historic decoys.
In the rear, the beautiful book-lined Robert Turnage Monk Library invites a visitor to pull a book on birds or nautical lore from the shelves and read all afternoon.
My favorite exhibit downstairs is a DVD continually playing of the Menhaden Chanteymen, who still perform today - they won the N.C. Heritage Award in 1991 - recreating the working songs of the predominately black shipboard crews employed by the fisheries. Menhaden fishing was big in these parts a long time ago, and the Maritime Museum in Beaufort has a similar exhibit. But this one focuses on the "chanteys" or work songs, with its beautiful rhythms and call-and-responses form. A leader sings out the first line of the song and the rest of the crew follows in harmony. Like the work songs of the Delta, this music is the basis of gospel songs and blues.
A visitor can hear the beautiful, haunting harmonies as he climbs to the second floor - the Heritage Center - which contains exhibits from all of the Downeast towns (Salter Path, Otway, etc.), prepared by local historical groups in those communities. Another DVD continually plays focusing on the unique Downeast brogue and its peculiar words, which to my mind sounded like a British Cockney accent. These people lived in relative isolation until recently, especially in the more remote communities and on fishing boats, and it is fascinating that they retained the accent of their immigrant forebears.
Finally, the enthusiastic visitor, heedless of tomorrow's long run, might climb up higher and higher on steep wooden steps, to the tower at the very top and its long-range views of the Willow Pond on one side and Cape Lookout Lighthouse on the other.
In preparation for the long run tomorrow, we ate simple pasta and marinara sauce. But Wednesday night - Valentine's Day - we splurged a little and had delicious crab cakes (Martha) and yellowfin tuna (Richard) at Amos Mosquitos. The highlight of the evening was dessert: "S'mores," which we prepared at our table over a little sterno burner, with little sticks for roasting the marshmallows, and Hershey Chocolate and Graham Crackers. We compared notes and realized it had been 40 or 50 years since we have enjoyed these decadent treats! "Adult supervision required," the dessert menu read. But our waiter told us that it had been the adults over the years who had required the most supervision.
But none of that tonight! Tonight it is only pasta and bread and a good night's sleep.
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