By 1915, President Wilson signed for the Life-saving Service to become the United States Coast Guard. In 1878, the network of stations were recognized as a separate agency of the United States Treasury, called the Life-Saving Service. As the number of shipwrecks increased along the treacherous waters off North Carolina’s coast, stations were built along its coast starting in 1874. He wanted Sanderling - named for the tiny, white-and-gray, water-wading birds on the beach - to be a place to escape, an inviting, modern-day hunting lodge.In 1848, the Federal Government, administered under the United States Revenue Marine, formally got involved in the efforts to save lives of shipwrecked mariners that previously were private and humanitarian efforts. So when he built his own resort on nearby land, he infused the property with his love for the area and mirrored the quaint, white-trimmed coastal style of Outer Banks history. The Texan-turned-North Carolinian had been drawn to the Outer Banks for its hunting and fishing, and he had a deep appreciation for nature and history: He bought the Pine Island Hunt Club north of Duck and donated close to 3,000 acres to the National Audubon Society, and he was responsible for the restoration of the Lifesaving Station and its transformation into an upscale restaurant. I imagine this is exactly what Earl Slick dreamed of when he opened The Sanderling Inn in 1985. I felt taken care of, yes, but I also felt like I fully belonged in this beachfront backyard beneath the dunes. Rooms look out over a grassy green lawn with two pools, a bocce ball court, and giant firepits meant for gathering around and roasting s’mores. There are rocking chairs and shady porches begging you to take a seat wherever you turn. There’s an orange rubber duck in the shower. photograph by Sanderling ResortĪnd yet, although Sanderling has all of the luxurious details of a resort - the fluffy bed, the turn-down service, the spa - I had a strong feeling that we were instead at a friend’s fabulously beautiful, well, beach house. Sit by the ocean and relax under a signature orange umbrella. (Fine, I’ll admit it was less than 100 feet to our wing of the hotel, but, shhh, maybe we just wanted an excuse to eat dessert.) As the rain poured, we’d stalled first with dessert - to-die-for lemon curd and Irish coffee - then by browsing the historical nautical memorabilia and photos before finally making a run for it. 5, one of seven coastal stations built in 1874 for rescuing shipwreck victims. We’d watched this very storm roll in across the sound from a windowside table on the top floor of the Lifesaving Station, a beautiful restaurant inside the former Caffey’s Inlet Lifesaving Station No. In the afternoon, we’d ordered cocktails at the Sandbar restaurant, then wandered up to the top of a seagrass-covered dune to sit in hammocky lounge chairs. We’d waded in the shallow surf and searched for shells. We’d spent the morning drinking coffee on the porch and lounging on the white-sand beach under a bright Sanderling-orange umbrella. We’re cozy and warm and dry in our own little lighthouse, comfortably marooned between the Atlantic Ocean and Currituck Sound on a slice of Outer Banks sand just 900 feet wide. We’re upstairs in the Beach House, the main wing and lobby of Sanderling Resort in Duck, in a room filled with old books and games, as a wild late-summer storm crashes around us, and I’ve never felt more like a character in a Nicholas Sparks novel.
“You know, when you said we were going to a fancy beach resort, I can’t say I imagined that Scrabble would be involved,” he says as he plays a tile. Inside, my boyfriend, Alex, slightly sunburned and very relaxed, leans forward.
Outside, lightning flashes in the darkness, creating stop-motion snapshots of the rain, the dunes, and the ocean beyond.
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