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OAK ISLAND , NC
Fort Caswell, up on the eastern tip of Oak Island, was a Civil War fort, now used as a Baptist retreat for Baptist youth and youth leaders for one or two week religious oriented vacations. The facilities there are complete with dormitories, an assembly hall for evening vespers services, and a canteen, with food, music, and some dancing. All of the activities were done under the supervision of the camp security patrols. A special permit was needed to even get in the front gate.
One other thing that Fort Caswell had was an abundance of very nice looking girls who were looking for more out of a two week vacation than the structured and supervised activities that were available to them there. Especially with Caswell�s policy encouraging the separation of the sexes during all times, other than their organized and supervised activities.
One afternoon, Bobby Smith and I were surfing up at Caswell Beach about fifty yards from the Baptist�s private beach. Upon coming out of the water, we noticed two very nice looking girls watching us from the other side of the fence. We walked over to them and struck up a conversation. We found out their names and that they were from Durham, North Carolina and that they had two days left in their vacation. It was further revealed that they would like to meet us that night after Vespers Services, at the canteen, INSIDE of the complex.
Bobby already had a date for that night, so we told them that I had another friend that would come back with me, and that his name was Steve Horne. It was then that I noticed the lifeguard waving for the girls to get away from the fence and rejoin their group, as if we, the evil surfers, were a threat to their entire denomination�s security, doctrine, and probably their boredom.
Bobby and I made a couple of gestures of our own to the lifeguard and proceeded back to Yaupon Beach. It was there that Bobby asked me if I had been hit in the head one too many times with a surfboard and just exactly how in the hell did I figure on getting into Fort Caswell. I told him not to worry. I had a plan.
Later that afternoon, I found Steve Horne and explained the plan to him. He said that he was �good to go� although he was sure that any plan of mine was certain to end in some kind of major catastrophe for both of us.
In order for us to be successful in our covert activities that night, we had to �blend in� around the canteen. That meant that we had to dress, act, and look like Baptist citizens. For us, this was far from an easy undertaking.
That night, we got Tommy McKeithen to give us a ride to within walking distance of the gate, out of sight of the gate guard, and told Tommy to pick us up about midnight at the same spot. Then Steve and I dressed in madras shirts, Bermuda shorts with belts, and polished loafers, made our way to the beach and toward Fort Caswell.