Summary
Continue reading for an optimal four-day itinerary for North Carolina’s Inner Banks region.
Many individuals are familiar with North Carolina’s Outer Banks: Famous for its picturesque, dune-rippled beaches and iconic lighthouses, it is also where the Wright brothers achieved their groundbreaking flight. However, an equally captivating area exists: the Inner Banks, a stretch of land positioned between I-95 to the east and the Outer Banks to the west.
A hidden treasure on the East Coast, this region is most effectively explored via waterways. Consequently, during a recent extended weekend in November, my family undertook a four-day, 130-mile expedition utilizing kayaks, sailboats, catamarans, and, when necessary, automobiles.
Day One: Washington
Prior to embarking on our journey, we spent the night at Elmwood 1820, an upscale five-bedroom bed-and-breakfast located in a quaint town referred to as “Little Washington.” The following morning, we enjoyed a delightful breakfast on the expansive veranda, featuring eggs, sweet potato pancakes garnished with pecans, and airy biscuits. Energized from our meal, we proceeded to rent kayaks from Inner Banks Outfitters, paddling through a narrow, sun-dappled creek and into marshes inhabited by lounging turtles and wading herons.
While returning the kayaks, I engaged in a conversation with owner Liane Harsh. She emphasized the necessity of experiencing Washington from the rivers, as the town is located at the confluence of the Pamlico and the Tar River. Harsh also showcased her new vessel, and we gladly accepted her invitation. As we navigated her sleek Boston Whaler past a small island alleged to have once housed a brothel, Harsh’s phone vibrated. “Hi, Mom,” she responded. Her mother, residing in a waterfront apartment, had observed her passing and wished to know who occupied the boat. “Everyone is informed about everything around here,” Harsh remarked.
We concluded the day at The Hackney, a restaurant and gin distillery established in 2019 by Susanne Hackney Sanders. After enjoying chef Jamie Davis’ sweet potato bisque—crafted from potatoes sourced from nearby Southside Farms and topped with fried oysters—alongside shrimp and grits and pan-seared red drum fish, we savored a small glass of 1000 Piers gin, produced with a blend of 21 local botanicals.
Day Two: Oriental to Swansboro to Beaufort
The following morning, we departed for Oriental, self-designated as the “Sailing Capital of North Carolina,” where we boarded a 34-foot Catalina sailboat commanded by captain Alexis Edwards of Bow to Stern Boating. At 23 years old and a third-generation sailor, she expertly navigated the vessel. Throughout the day, we cruised the broad expanse of the Neuse River—named after the Neusiok tribe. Edwards pointed out that the Neuse is often underestimated. “People call and say, ‘I don’t want to sail a river—it’ll be too small,'” she explained. While extending her arms wide, she added, “It’s six miles across.” Sailors can easily transition from here to the ocean. (I spotted a pod of dolphins playing off the bow.)
During midday, we made a stop in Swansboro, one of the picturesque waterfront towns along the Inner Banks. After enjoying a lunch of fish and chips, we headed back to the water, this time at Hammocks Beach State Park—aboard a 23-foot Bay Rider Skiff with Captain Daryl Marsh. We glided through tranquil channels before arriving at Bear Island. Upon arrival, we disembarked onto the beach, where the water remained warm for November. Aside from a few fishermen and a handful of oystercatcher birds fluttering above, we had the four-mile-long barrier island to ourselves. As my family admired the rolling dunes, which serve as a cherished nesting ground for loggerhead sea turtles, my daughter grasped my hand and gently squeezed it.
At the conclusion of the day, we visited Beaufort, which shares its name with the more prominent town in South Carolina. At Beaufort Grocery Co., a casual dining venue that has delighted locals for three decades, we relished some Carolina crab cakes and a dish aptly named Darn Fine Gumbo.
Day Three: Beaufort
Luxury accommodations are relatively scarce throughout the Inner Banks; however, the newly established Beaufort Hotel North Carolina is a welcomed addition. Featuring navy and white decor, pendant lights adorned with buoy netting, and mirrors reminiscent of nautical portholes, it offers delightful views over Taylor Creek in the Rachel Carson Reserve (Beaufort is also where Carson penned her first book, “Under the Sea Wind”).
In the morning, a brief ten-minute ferry ride took us to Shackleford Banks, an array of undeveloped barrier islands where we scoured the beach for sand dollars and observed wild horses believed to be descendants of shipwrecked Spanish Mustangs from the 16th century.
Day Four: Wrightsville Beach
The Atlantic Ocean, though occasionally unseen, consistently influences the Inner Banks, as it ebbs and flows through coastal estuaries with the tide. Sensing its allure, we proceeded to Wrightsville Beach, adjacent to the vibrant college town of Wilmington. Wrightsville resembles a compact version of Miami Beach, adorned with surf shops and retro-chic hotels, including the recently refurbished midcentury Blockade Runner, where we took up residence.
That morning, we indulged in a beach walk before visiting The Workshop, a cafe and fossil jewelry store managed by scuba divers. While my husband and I enjoyed cold brews, our daughter was fascinated by ancient megalodon teeth, prehistoric sharks that once navigated the waters of North Carolina. (The combination of a cafe offering both smoothies and fossils was unprecedented for us.) However, as is common in the Inner Banks, we swiftly returned to the water, riding the surf of the Atlantic on the eastern side of Wrightsville Beach and paddleboarding into the Masonboro Island Reserve, accompanied only by wandering white ibis and swaying grasses.
While the term ‘Inner Banks’ may appear as somewhat ambitious marketing, the region undeniably captivates the imagination. Even after our journey, there are nights when I drift off to sleep, sensing my bed gently swaying as if the waves were still carrying me.
