I, Bernie Harberts, did not use generative AI to write or illustrate this article. Spell check and grammar check, yes. AI, no.
After two weeks anchored off Shackleford Banks aboard Grit, we felt like an extension of the uninhabited island. We knew the dark blue part of the channel we needed to aim for if we didn’t want to run Grit aground as we entered the anchorage. We had seen Back Sound in a range of states, from galloping with white horse waves to reflecting the full moon’s glow. We had watched the lieutenant stallion long enough to know that when he ran off another stallion, they had known each other since they were young and wouldn’t hurt each other.
And that was hard to leave. Leave a hyacinth bulb suspended in water long enough and it grows roots.
Our sailboat Grit anchored off Shackleford Banks. She’s a 1992 Nimble 24.Click on the player to get the close up band of wild ponies viewEnd of the trail: a skull from what Julia deducted was a four-year old Banker pony. She discovered a poisonous surprise under the skull when she turned it over.Grit anchored just off the beach. Note how the water color changes from crystalline to brown to blue as it gets deeper.
The Last Band
The morning of our departure, Julia and I sat in Grit‘s cockpit, looking at the sandy beach just off our beam one last time. It was empty. It brought us back to our arrival, two weeks earlier.
I had dropped Grit‘s anchors in the narrow channel and set them. Grit settled into the tide and as I looked over at Shackleford Island, four wild ponies stepped onto the beach.
It was the perfect welcome. We’d come looking for wild ponies and they found us before we’d even launched our kayaks and rowed to shore.
Now that was all hindsight, though, and a touch of sadness was in the air as I prepared to raise the anchors and turn Grit‘s bow for home.
As Julia and I were looking at the stretch of empty beach, a chunky brown pony stepped onto the beach. And then another. And another. And a fourth one.
We recognized them immediately. They were the chestnut stallion, the bay mare and their two daughters. It was the same band of ponies that had greeted us the day we’d arrived.
The very first wild pony photo I took on our trip — a yearling filly and an older bay mare. They belong to the same band of ponies that saw us off the last day of our visit.The second photo of the wild ponies. This is one of the young ponies that saw us off.
We sat in silence and I could tell Julia was thinking. The four ponies started walking down the beach. I started filming and Julia started talking. What I captured was a magical summary of the two weeks we’d spent on Shackleford Banks.
Click to watch Julia’s heartfelt farewell to the wild ponies of Shackleford Banks
Farewell, wild ponies of Shackleford Banks.
Julia’s side of the voyage at Saddle Under the Stars:
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