I was in Southport for the first time in a long time this weekend, and I have a bigger story coming Thursday about a much more harrowing topic I discovered in town. But if you’ll indulge me, I want to bring you along for some other parts of my trip.

First off, Shibumi has taken a new form, which I saw when I bopped into Ocean Outfitters on East Moore Street:

I guess a chair makes sense? After all, Shibumi Shades themselves seem pretty durable, which means at some point beaches are going to reach peak Shibumi. You gotta sell some other sort of product to keep money rolling in, lest you go out like the Instant Pot.

So I guess a chair makes sense? Maybe they’re innovating in the beach chair space? This one says it’s rust resistant and comfy, and it sells for $165, so maybe it’s more durable than the rusted Tommy Bahama chair I lug down to the sand every time I’m out at the coast. The Shibumi Chair doesn’t seem to be patented though. (For what it’s worth, the Shibumi Shade is a North Carolina invention that’s now made elsewhere, and its patent lawyers are constantly fighting imitators.)

Also in the same store, there’s this t-shirt:

Look, I know every state is supposed to have a rival. Texans (or at least the people running Texas) love to tell people that they’re doing the exact opposite of whatever people in California are doing. Ohio and Michigan almost got into a shooting war over … Toledo. Toledo! Tennessee and Georgia are fighting over water. And so on. I sort of figured that North and South Carolina would be rivals, but no. Apparently this t-shirt thinks New Jersey is somehow sending an invading horde to spread its culture far and wide. An occupying army of Snookis, maybe.

I can’t find any reference to a specific New Jersey-North Carolina beef? There is, however, some t-shirt on Amazon that warns people not to “New York my North Carolina.” Its raison d’etre calls it “the perfect way for republican, conservative, or any North Carolina resident that doesn't want liberal policy ruining their state to show their opinion.” Sure! This state has had 15 years of conservative legislative control, but you do you, responsibly-sourced t-shirt.

For what it’s worth, New Jersey isn’t even in the top-five among states that send us their residents (Virginia’s number one, followed by New York, California, Texas, Pennsylvania, and then Jersey). But maybe Southport in particular has had enough of New Jersey. After all, no Sopranos episode was ever shot in Southport. All we ever get is Nicholas Sparks movies.

Down the street at the Provision Company, there’s this sign:

I know what this is supposed to mean (holds up three fingers while a single tear rolls down my cheek), but I really hope Pitbull rolls up to this restaurant someday and immediately takes this spot.

Last thing, if I can indulge for a second. Nine years ago in April, I was on a four-person crew that paddled the entire length of the Cape Fear River, from Jordan Lake near Raleigh all the way down to Southport. We finished our trip right up the street from Provision Company, on a tiny little bit of beach on West Bay Street. This week, I went back there for the first time in a long time. It brought back a bunch of memories! I was so glad to see this bit of sand, because kayaking down the shipping channel of the lower Cape Fear really, really sucked.

And! We ventured over to Oak Island to take a look at the lighthouse. Everyone seems to think it’s their least favorite North Carolina lighthouse because it’s made from concrete. I think it’s just fine. It’s a lighthouse! All lighthouses are great. It wasn’t open, so we didn’t get to go to the top, but we did go across the street to see the educational boardwalk. A bunch of people have told me that my name is on one of the signs, and sure enough, there it was:

I haven’t ever seen this in person, and I can’t tell you how flattered I am that the Friends of the Oak Island Lighthouse chose my story to help educate people about the wreck of the Agnes E. Fry (although full credit to the Our State art department, which created that map). If you want to read it, it’s still up on the magazine’s website. I also created a podcast episode from it, if you want to listen that way. The audio version gives you a full dose of underwater archaeologist Billy Ray Morris, and I highly recommend it.