THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, June 1, 1996 TAG: 9605300292
SECTION: REAL ESTATE WEEKLY PAGE: 04 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: ABOUT THE OUTER BANKS
SOURCE: Chris Kidder
LENGTH: 97 lines
I was reading Beach Music by Pat Conroy recently. One short scene, halfway through the book, sums up one of the biggest misunderstandings about oceanfront ownership.
In the book, Johnson Hagood McCall walks down a barrier island beach to his ex-wife's house. Jack McCall, the book's narrator, confronts his father. ``Get out of Mom's front yard,'' says Jack.
``I'm not in her front yard. The piece of land on which I'm standing belongs to the littoral of the great state of South Carolina. No man or woman can purchase or lay claim to the beach itself, which belongs to the state and the people in perpetuity.''
Substitute North Carolina for South and the elder McCall's statement is just as true: The wet sand beach, that strip of beach between the mean high and low water lines, is public property.
Currently, our law sees the beach in three parts: the wet sand beach made up of land between the mean low tide mark and the high tide mark; the dry sand beach, land between the high tide mark and the vegetation line; and, the land between the vegetation line and the nearest road.
Private ownership begins with the dry sand beach. Ownership of this part of the beach has its limitations, but the responsibilities aren't diminished: One must pay taxes, maintain the property to prevent public hazard, and do all the other things required by law of property owners.
Even though the dry sand beach is privately owned, the public has a right of passage. Right of passage has yet to be fully defined by the courts. It is generally accepted to mean that the public can walk over the dry sand beach.
Some would interpret ``right of passage'' to also mean using that part of the beach as a beach: laying down a beach towel and other belongings, chasing an errant Frisbee, maybe even building a sand castle.
Right of passage probably doesn't include setting up beach umbrellas, chairs, volleyball nets or other things that suggest you've come to stay awhile.
Problems arise because most people who own beachfront houses do consider the waterside to be their front yard. It's the side that really counts; the side where they'll spend the most time indoors and out. Buyers of oceanfront property paid for and expect to enjoy views and access to the ocean. Most would have gladly paid to own the entire foreshore and have a truly private beach.
Property owners settle for less because they have no choice. But when the public brings its blaring radios, loud conversations, unruly and crying children, Frisbees and other flying toys onto their land, interfering with the owners' rights to enjoy their own properties, it's hard to be charitable.
I've had more than one beach homeowner suggest to me that the general public needs a better aquaintance with Miss Manners. Their litany of thoughtless and rude behavior seldom varies.
Beachgoers bring food and drinks to the beach and leave the trash behind - or, better but still not acceptable, they fill up private garbage cans. They use private outdoor showers and walkways as though they were public restroom facilities. They become obnoxious, uninvited participants in private gatherings.
Another problem for Outer Banks beachgoers and beachfront homeowners is access to the public beach. While the law allows the public to use the beach, it doesn't mandate access.
The third part of the beach, the area between the vegetation line and the road, is private property without a public right of passage. An owner doesn't have to let anyone walk across it.
Indeed, property owners who habitually allow public access across their property risk losing the right to limit access in the future. Courts in other states have ruled that repeated public use implies ``dedication'' of the land to public access. Once this access is allowed, it can be tough to take away.
Outer Banks communities view public access to the beach as a serious responsibility. Nags Head, Kitty Hawk and Kill Devil Hills provide dozens of improved access points with boardwalks, some with restrooms and showers, some handicapped accessible and even more unimproved dune crossings.
Other communities take a different view of access. From Southern Shores and Duck north, the beaches are, if not legally, then de facto, private. With the exception of a couple of county dune crossings at Corolla, there is no public access on the northern beaches. Property owners in these communities limit use of their parking lots, boardwalks and crossovers to themselves and their guests.
On Hatteras and Ocracoke Islands, the National Park Service maintains several public access areas as part of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore.
The dream of walking in solitude along the water's edge has universal appeal. You'll never see an advertisement that reads ``Come enjoy our crowded beaches.'' No one would deny that privacy and protection from public use increases the value of oceanfront property.
But while the dream of the beach property owner is privacy, the general public wants access. Easy beach access adds value to homes not on the oceanfront. Off-the-beach houses with easy beach access rent better, sell for more.
William Kaufman and Orrin H. Pilkey Jr., authors of ``The Beaches Are Moving,'' claim the effect of public access is two-fold.
First, they say, the value of adjoining properties will go down, or at least stabilize. But, ``when the public gains access, the value lost by shorefront landowners reappears, many times multiplied, as a benefit attached to every home in the community.'' MEMO: Send comments and questions to Chris Kidder at P.O. Box 10, Nags
Head, N.C. 27959. Or e-mail her at realkidd(AT)aol.com by CNB