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Battle at America's far edge

Hatteras on front lines of East Coast's development clashes

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Many Hatteras residents believe that Dixon and Hoyle plan to build the marina and sell the condos, and then let the buyers pressure state agencies for the dredging permit.

In January 2003, following a record-breaking snowstorm, and during a long period of cold and violent wind, a team of local excavators hired by Hoyle and Dixon moved onto the Slash property. The trees on the property were very old, the live oaks interlocking in places, trained by the wind and salt to dense, tent-like shapes that sheltered the understory from both freezing winds, blowing salt, and the summer sun. Residents of the village had kept the yaupon and other brush cut back so that the property provided access in some places to the water of the Slash; in other places, paths meandered under the protection of the trees, leading to grassy clearings that had once been grazed by stock, and where big, weather-twisted red cedars grew.

The bulldozers made short work of these woods, rooted in mere sand, and made huge, orderly piles of them, like islands on a smooth sea. The clearing of these trees, in a place where trees have always been valued as protection from the elements, was so dramatic that cars slowed down on the highway in front of the property to watch. Photos of the piles of trees and brush appeared in the Coastland Times and the Island Breeze, along with angry, and disheartened, letters to the editors.

A lot happened during the first two months of 2003. Work on filling the property was halted after Dennis Hawthorne, of the Division of Coastal Management, found that the excavators were dumping fill outside the permitted area, at the edge of the Slash itself. Hawthorne issued what would be Dixon's fifth environmental violation since 2001.

One afternoon in February, in the pouring rain, Hawthorne walked along the silt fence that was built to prevent the fill from entering the black needle rush and spartina grass at the edge of the water. "You know," he said, "I recommended an EIS (environmental impact statement) for this project. Anybody can see that this is sensitive wetlands. But the office in Raleigh decided against it." He looked out over the clean-shaven property. "This guy is a bulldozer. There's no real excuse for the way he talks to me when I have to meet with him. But he's a rich man. He must know what he's doing."

The Hatteras Civic Association met in February, and, in another unanimous vote, approved zoning and planning regulations that would prohibit any future high-density developments like the Slash Condominiums. The vote would have no effect on either of Sen. Hoyle and Mr. Dixon's projects in the village, but it showed clearly how things had changed.

"I guess you could say I did the community a favor," said Hoyle. "They finally have some control over their own destiny."

Goodbye To A Way of Life

Captain Ernie Foster lives on a quiet side street in Hatteras Village and operates the Albatross Fleet of charter boats. His father, Ernal Foster, founded the fleet in 1936, and was a pioneer of big game fishing, the first captain to run charter boats out of Hatteras, and one of the first captains to advocate catch and release angling. Ernie Foster was mate on the Albatross boat that caught the then-world record blue marlin off Diamond Shoals in 1962, the mounted marlin that is still displayed in a glass case in front of the Hatteras Library. He taught school in Raleigh for a decade, and in the Dare County schools for 20 years before returning to fishing.

In July 2002, Foster wrote a guest column for the Island Breeze that was called "Thoughts on watching a village die." The column was the most articulate explanation of what development, as typified by the Dixon-Hoyle project at Hatteras Harbor, and the proposed Slash project, was doing to Hatteras. In an interview shortly after the clearing of the trees on the Slash property, Foster explained why he wrote the column, which he knew would infuriate at least some of the people with whom his family had shared the island for generations.

"The situation had reached the tipping point," he said. "It is like a fire -- there is that certain moment when everybody decides to run. I had one of our county commissioners say, at a public meeting, that it was OK to criticize these developments, but I should recognize that other people feel differently. And I looked around, and everybody at the meeting opposed the Slash project. Everybody says no, don't let it happen. Where are the ones that feel differently? Where are the people that say "We want less salt marshes, less trees, more condos?' Is there anybody, other than Hoyle and Dixon, who wants to see this happen to our town?"