It was pretty windy when we got to Ocracoke. The feel of the island is so unlike that of Hatteras. Hatteras feels hardscrabble, pocked by aggressive incursions of money on the shoreline. Its news is full of controversies and tragedies. However, it's as beautiful as it is unkempt.
Ocracoke feels like the Florida Keys, laid back and indulgent, without concern for achievement or wealth. You get the sense that a fisherman and a Rockefeller could chat over beer, without money ever coming up as a topic or an issue. Pelicans, the seabirds who seem most unperturbable, hang out here. You'd expect to encounter Jimmy Buffett, wasting away.
In October Ocracoke still has pink and purple flowers in bloom, trailing along the roadways and popping up beside the eateries. Vic and I lunched at a place called Dijalo, where the hot crab dib and the tempura-battered (spicy) bluefish were heavenly.
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