The morning Trouble washed ashore
t is the morning of April 5, 1928.
An agent of the Clyde Steamship
Company and year-round resident
of Wrightsville Beach, M.M. Riley
I
resides in a cottage along the now-underwater
beachfront strip called Ocean Avenue. Riley
prefers to start his day with a walk along
the shores of the Atlantic, and this morning
begins no differently. However, as he walks
out the door, he spots the waves lapping
around a tremendous shape.
The creature in the surf will later measure
54 feet and 2 inches long, and 33 feet in
girth. It is a 100,000-pound male sperm
whale, speculated to have died from a whaler’s
harpoon.
Whaling was once a flourishing industry
off the Carolina coast, but overzealous whalers
quickly worked themselves out of a job. The
last whale reported killed by North Carolina
whalers was taken off the coast of Carteret
County in 1913; however, fleets from New
England occasionally dipped south in the
years that followed.
Word of the dead sea creature spreads
quickly into the town and beyond. Before
long, traffic on the newly constructed cause-way
bridge is jammed up bumper to bumper.
Tide Water Power Company’s electric
railway does rush business, transporting
passengers to the beach. An April 10 edition
of the Morning Star reports that 50,000
visitors from at least six states have come to
see the behemoth.
Initially, Wrightsville Beach Mayor
George Kidder is pleased with all of the
attention the whale has brought his little
beach town. But the excitement fades in
a few days time, as the increasingly putrid
smell emitted by the rotting carcass begins
to deter the once-eager visitors. Before long,
Kidder realizes he has a serious problem on
his hands.
In his book, Land of the Golden River,
Philip Seymour Hall recalls public health
officials in an uproar, with one such
Dr. John Hamilton threatening to “throw
the book” at Wrightsville Beach officials
This page and next: Spectators are photographed as Trouble lays on the shore of
Wrightsville Beach. An April 10 edition of the Morning Star estimates that 50,000 people
from at least six states traveled to see the dead whale. Opposite right: A letter from
T.T. Murphy, described by Harry Davis as the “cynosure of all the disgruntled souls in
Pender,” foreshadows trouble to come.
PHOTOGRAPHY AND ARCHIVAL DOCUMENTS COURTESY OF NORTH CAROLINA MUSEUM OF NATURAL SCIENCES. FRAME GRAPHICS COURTESY OF TIGERS-STOCK.DEVIANTART.COM
56 if “something isn’t done immediately.”
WBM march 2013