-Terese, March 29

But Andy Taylor is still here. 

Belhaven, North Carolina can only be mistaken for that semi-fictional town where sheriff Andy Taylor kept all things, always politely, under control. Brad, the owner of the Belhaven Marina is the place’s Andy. He greeted me as I wandered up the dock into the yard, where there is a gazebo with individual hammock chairs, and furniture arranged for a quaint social gathering – perhaps Aunt Bee’s bridge club. A small putting green is situated just outside the office/store, where you can “bundle” a t-shirt, a beer, and shot all for $18.00. A volleyball net waves in the breeze over a makeshift sandy beach, right next to a mini basketball half-court. Vintage photos of young men sporting navy uniforms, holding their gals, make for a pin-up effect in one of the bath houses. Titles from the lending library poke out from boat-shaped shelves just outside the showers. 

“Oh, you gotta try ‘Spoon River’ – it’s been said to be the best restaurant between Maine and Miami on the ICW,” Brad tells me. There’s also a steak house, the Farm Boys grill, a new Mexican place, and a tavern.  We are at first thrilled at the prospects, only to learn that on Mondays, everything is closed. Spoon River’s breezy, sensual yet comfortable décor teased us from behind broad windows. Several boutiques beckoned, even with cheery invites in curly-cue handwriting on chalk sidewalk boards. But Michelle and I could only smush our faces against panes of glass fomenting at chic artisan wearables. When Mayberry shuts down, it shuts down hard.

Spoon River’s owners, Teresa and Mark Von Staalduinen have apparently been bestowed with development grants, which they plan to invest in three more spiff-ups. Worn edifices will be rehabilitated in the way that we now stress blue jeans—they’ll be made new to look old – or to fit the Mayberry theme.

The Mayberry of 2022 doesn’t throw you back so far as to be inconvenient. The eclectic and comprehensive ACE Hardware can accommodate any practical or impractical need.  I know this because it’s where you must purchase a token to activate the marine self-serve pump-out station. As a woman who is excited at the notion that her hometown ACE sells women’s sized gardening gloves, you can imagine my delirium when I discovered a whole women’s department featuring blousy, gauzy tops and t-shirts, arranged by color and size. There were even some of those crafty wire and slate and mineral-type earrings and beaded necklaces expertly displayed on delicate hooks—a fine femme distraction from the paint aisle. 

Not to let the Monday blues get us down, the marina GM, Gregg, (the opposite of Barney Fife) provided chauffer services in his sleek black, 2008 Jaguar, to Vinny’s, the local pizza joint, then took the long route home so we could cast admiring glances at the River Forest Manor, built in 1899 by John Aaron Wilkinson, a lumber yard president and vice president of Norfolk and Southern Railroad, overlooking the Pungo River.  Gregg is former Navy, a gas turbine systems electrician, which my former Navy husband explained is a job performed only by the really smart guys. He’s so smart he left the Navy, then left his civilian job and bought the Belhaven Marina with Brad. 

            “We get maybe 50 boats in March. In April we’ll see 250,” Brad told me. “We’ll get 2,500 boats through here in the summer.”

            Tuesday morning brought the early opening of Gingerville Bakery, which Brad says is owned and operated by an 82-year-old woman named…wait for it…Ginger. We ordered three dollar and fifty cent steak and egg sandwiches, omelets, and hash browns, and were romanced by the biscuits as well as the locals, who clearly each had a permanent, assigned-by-time seat at the middle table, where they could shout out greetings and wise cracks to townspeople who had less time to loiter. 

            Bellies full, we toddled back aboard Eleanor, started the engines then cruised to another dock to use our token. Despite it being a self-serve operation, Gregg showed up to serve anyway, then wave us off as we pointed Eleanor’s bow north. With Mayberry to our stern we set our sights on the iron grey clad banks of the heavily armored city of Norfolk, ready for a quickening pace, or as brisk as it gets out here on the ICW.