State

THE STATE Page Seven May 5, 1934 CAROLINA’S TROPICAL ISLAND FEW people hove ever visited Bald Head Island, at the mouth of the Cape Fear. It is one of the most unusual and most interesting spots in the state and supports an almost tropical growth of vegetation and flora. By Frank A. Montgomery, Jr. DOWN in 111** extreme southeast¬ ern corner of the Old North State, where the yellow waters of the historic Cape Fear flow majes¬ tically to meet the sea, there is a region of smooth, flat beaches and towering sand dunes. On the south of the inlet, these beaches and dunes stretch away towards the South Carolina line— on past Fort Caswell, with its goats and abandoned barrack buildings, to Little River. But to the north of the bar there is another section of country of such a striking difference that its uniqueness is apparent to even the most casual observer. For, lying there along the shores of the Atlantic, in the general shape of a gigantic boomerang with it.s curve pointed eastward, is Carolina’s own tropical Carden of Eden— Old Bald Head Island. Its sands forever washed by the tropic-tempered waters of the Gulf Stream and its palmettos and youpon fanned by the warm sea winds, the island has long been noted for its thickets of almost tropical growth. Rarely does the land there know the (touch* of Jack Frost’s chilling hand, or feel the soft white blanket that is the snow of less-favored sections. One old island resident — one of a few who call the spot home — told me that he’d never seen snow fall on Bald Head Island during all the years that he'd lived there. Amply bearing out the old islander’s statement are the hundreds of pal¬ mettos which grow in profusion all over the place, their tangle with other shrubs at places so dense that one feels that he has stumbled inadvertently into an almost tropical jungle land. Vines and creepers, with which are mingled the ever-present rustling pal¬ mettos, are everywhere, straggling up over the crests of low hills and even growing clear down to the limits of the sluggish tidal creeks that thread the * «wlands of the island. Difficult of access from the mainland, Bald Head Is¬ land has never been frequent¬ ed to any ex¬ tent, except by occasional crowds of hardy pleasure seekers who braved the broad Capo Fear for a Sun¬ day outing upon it- alluring shores. But, due to its marvelous climate, there was an attempt made a couple of years ago to grow their tobacco plants free of that scourge of the to¬ bacco planter from up state the blue mold. Expert tobacco men thought that the warm wind-swept island soil would discourage the blue mold fungus growth of the tobacco plnnts, ami sev¬ eral acres were planted there as an ex¬ periment. Last spring 1 visited the site of the experiments, and the man in charge claimed that the tests were suc¬ cessful. Bald Head, or Smith’s Island, as it has come to be named in recent years, is reached by boat from the quaint little fishing town of Southport, which is about four miles from the island on the mainland to the west. And it is from Southport that the daily mail boat leaves to carry the mail and sup¬ plies for the lighthouse keeper there. Across the Capo Four and up Cape Creek, which threads its way into the interior of the island, tho ambitious traveler goes, and finally the govern¬ ment dock is seen close at hand. From there one may explore and journey at will all over this near-tropical para¬ dise in the Old North State, always finding new interests and thrills in the thick woods or along the broad, flat beaches. In days long past Bald Head played a prominent part in the conflict be¬ tween the states. Nearby is old Fort Fisher, which is directly to the north, about seven miles away from its most A view along the shore of Bald Heod Island, showing the light-house in the background southern point. Fort Caswell, now abandoned and dismantled, is just across the river mouth. And on its shores are the wrecks of many a block, ade runner, mute reminders of the stirring days of tho sixties. Then, too, long before the Revolution, when the Capo Fear section was a raw, untamed wilderness, it was the hangout for many furtive pirate crafts, chief among which was the infamous Stndo Bonnet, pirate extraordinary. It is said that Bonnet’s men would decoy passing vessels upon the treacherous sands of Frying Pan shoals nearby, by placing false lights on the shores of the island. Then they would descend upon the hapless ship and pillage and plunder, often mutilating and injuring their victims in the most horrible manner. To be so near to a well-populated section, old Bald Head is one of the least-frequented spots one could well imagine. Great ocean steamer.- pass within a stone’s throw of its shores on their way to and from Wilmington, yet seldom do people visit its shore-. Loss than two miles away the newly- constructed inland waterway oxtends to the north and south. But to those who know its palmetto- bordered shores, where the warm scji breezes sigh contentedly through the green tree tops, its remoteness means little, and there is a never-ending satis, faction in visiting the old island. And when one can pick tomatoes from the bush the day before Christmas, as one of the coast guardsmen swore to me he did in December a year ago, then truly old Bald Head must be a Caro¬ lina land favored beyond compare by the gods of the element-.