The Outer Banks has earned its nickname over the last 5 years

North Carolina’s jagged coastline has long carried the nickname “the Graveyard of the Atlantic” because of the thousands of shipwrecks that have occurred there over the last five centuries, with the first one on record happening in 1526 near the Cape Fear River.

But in recent years, it has earned its nickname for another reason: The sheer number of homes along the barrier islands that have been claimed by the sea.

Over the last nearly seven weeks alone, 16 houses have collapsed due to rough weather that included nor’easters and hurricanes. Though the hurricanes never made landfall, they churned up the Atlantic Ocean to create a perfect storm of powerful winds, rain and waves that relentlessly pounded the seashore and eroded what was left of the structures that were supporting the homes.

Buxton, home to the famed Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, was hardest hit, losing 15 beachfront houses, with five of them happening in one day. Rodanthe also lost a home.

In total, 27 coastal homes along the North Carolina Outer Banks have met their demise since 2020. It’s become so common that locals, tourists and news outlets alike can sometimes be seen monitoring the shoreline when storms hit, with cameras in hand to record what could be the next home to fall.

The Fox Weather YouTube channel set up a camera in early October, specifically set to watch one home on Tower Circle Road as the hurricanes skirted the coast. The weather forecaster there noted it would likely only be a short matter of time before the home went down, as it was already leaning.

It ended up being one of the five that fell last week.

I admit coastal erosion is not my wheelhouse. But in doing research in the aftermath of numerous homes falling at the end of September and early October, I learned that the topic of coastal erosion and building homes along barrier islands is a terribly sensitive one.

Understandably, some question the wisdom of building on what essentially are shifting sands, saying the government shouldn’t put a penny toward beach nourishment or saving or rebuilding the structures and nearby roads.

Others, including homeowners and long-term residents, say it’s worth the risk as it brings not just enjoyment but also millions in tax revenue to beach towns every year.

I’m not here to argue either way. But I did want to add my voice to the North Carolinians who have watched what has unfolded at the coast and whose heart breaks for those who’ve lost what was likely their palatial pride and joy that they worked years to be able to afford and/or build.

My family and I called an area just outside of Wilmington home for many years when I was a child, and we spent a lot of time at the beach while there. Even after moving to Charlotte in the early 1980s, we continued our trips, though they didn’t start back up until the 1990s.

Places like Southport and Oak Island were (and are) among our favorites, and it always fascinated me how home development was always going on in areas where it was clear Mother Nature was going to have the final word sooner rather than later.

I can’t speak to the wisdom of building directly on the coast beyond acknowledging the fact that the sea is a seductive siren, with the lure of the sand, the salty air and the waves lapping softly proving to be too much for some to resist.

It’s just sad to watch someone’s hopes and dreams get taken by the sea. But it’s a fact of life if you live in a hurricane/storm-prone area. Nothing and no one lasts forever. But if we’re blessed, we at least get to hold on to the memories.

North Carolina native Stacey Matthews has also written under the pseudonym Sister Toldjah and is a media analyst and regular contributor to RedState and Legal Insurrection.