Sometimes the most bad ass thing you can do is, well, nothing at all. Or at least nothing so strenuous that it would require putting your beer down. Recently, two members of the BAR team took a trip down south to Wrightsville Beach, NC. Our final destination? The famed Johnnie Mercer Pier. The pier has been a Wrightsville Beach institution since the 1930’s but was almost destroyed by Hurricane Fran in 1996. After many years of rebuilding, the pier is back and better than ever. Some will argue that the old wooden pier was a more classic look but in this age of lawsuits, liability and unpredictable “acts of god” (i.e. hurricanes), I think the new concrete reinforced pier is a huge improvement.

Anyhow, you know that the B.A.R team doesn’t trust word of mouth, we have to check it for ourselves and report back to you what the real deal is. So off we went 400 miles to NC. The great thing about a 750 foot pier is that its easy to find. Just cross the bridge into Wrightsville Beach and you can’t miss it. The new and improved Johnnie Mercer Pier has a full size arcade, restrooms, snack bar and dining area attached to it now. Most important, they serve BEER. Any activity that includes sand, surf, and sun must also include beer and we weren’t disappointed. They had about 10 different domestic and imports to choose from and even better, the prices were reasonable starting at $2.50. After Ernesto finished his hot dog and fries, he and I decided to try our luck at fishing even though neither of us had fished in probably a decade. Luckily, helpful Mr. Jim Barnes was working the counter and set us up with a couple of poles and a cup of shrimp bait. Beer in one hand, pole in the other, we set out to the end of the pier. It was busy but not too crowded. The weather on the pier was a perfect 70 degrees and sunny.

We staked our spot and began “casting” our lines. It quickly became evident not only to us but to those around us that we didn’t have the faintest idea how to cast a fishing line. But this is the south and southern hospitality was alive and well. A nice man just volunteered to show us what to do, more than once actually, because I kept forgetting how to do it. What a difference it made. After a few more tries we were casting out a good 100 feet (good for us I guess). We enjoyed the sunshine and warm weather but weren’t having much luck with the fish. Something was taking the bait but we just weren’t catching it.

We decided to move to the very end of the pier thinking our luck would improve. Did it ever! After about ten minutes, our BarEditor was convinced he had something on the line but we couldn’t see it. It looked more like his line was caught on the pier itself. He kept yanking but nothing was happening. Sure enough though, he did have something-a baby sand shark! Realizing that neither one of had any idea how to pull this monster in, I asked a group of seasoned fisherman close by for help and they talked to our fearless leader through it and helped him reel it in without breaking his line. Even better, by the time he got the fish up a crowd had gathered around him to see what he was pulling in. I took lots of photos of his shark, including him kissing it before he threw it back. As for me, I didn’t catch anything more than a sunburn that day. Overall, we had a great day-hotdogs, cheap beer, catching a shark and hanging out with the locals.

As more and more beaches are becoming overrun with million dollar mansions and corporate hotels, its downright reassuring that the Johnnie Mercer pier has been owned and operated by the same family since the 1960’s. Besides that, how many people can say they caught a shark on their weekend vacation? Definintely bad ass approved 5 out of 5.

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