In head-to-toe costumes, a mother and daughter take a trip to this quirky history festival and reenactment along the North Carolina coast
by CC Parker | professional images courtesy The Beaufort Pirate Invasion/Charles L. Harris

On Aug. 26, 1747, a ship of Spanish privateers attacked North Carolina’s coastal town of Beaufort. The colonists had to rely on themselves against the foreign invaders, and after days under siege, they drove the pirates away. The pirates never returned. Now, each year, the colonists’ victory is celebrated and reenacted at Beaufort’s two-day Pirate Invasion event.

The gathering has grown from a locals-only “day of living history” in 1960 to a weekend of pirate-themed activities attended by thousands of people. From sword fighting and puppetry to campfire cooking and blacksmithing, the event draws such a large crowd that residents jokingly call it “the Tourist Invasion.” 

I’d always wanted to experience the invasion for myself — and finally, last year, I made a plan. I enlisted my history-buff 23-year-old daughter Bailey as my sidekick to “sail through time to 1747,” the Pirate Invasion tagline. Her only stipulation was that we both dress in period costume, no shortcuts. “An eye patch doesn’t count, Mom!” she said.

Our pirate weekend kicked off with an evening dinner cruise aboard Beaufort’s “Crystal Coast Lady,” a locally based 120-passenger yacht. There, according to the schedule, “pirates” would enjoy a BBQ buffet and revelry. My daughter and I arrived just before departure.

The deckhands saluted us as we walked up the gangplank; singing and plucky guitar music streamed from inside the boat. Inside, a rollicking live pirate band, The Motley Tones, was playing, and costumed partygoers of all ages were line dancing. Guests balancing rum punch in plastic tumblers maneuvered through the crowd. As the boat backed away from the dock and swung into Taylor’s Creek, a lady in a red-and-black velvet ball gown welcomed the crowd and thanked the sponsors.

I had taken great care in selecting our dinner seats, so was surprised to find 16 people seated at our reserved eight-person table. Knowing that mistakes happen, I addressed the large, bearded man dressed in a cloak and breeches with a saber strapped across his chest sitting at the head of the table, who appeared to be the leader. Giving him my biggest smile, I showed him my tickets. “There’s been a mistake,” I say. “Those two seats at the end of this table belong to us.”

All conversation at the table stopped. He rolled his eyes, placed his hands onto the table, and heaved himself up. “You can sit in those empty seats,” he said, pointing to a table across the room.

Aware that everyone on our side of the boat was waiting for my reaction, I stood my ground in my cashmere twin-set and white capri jeans. I explained to the pirate that we’d traveled a long way and I had picked our seats specially for my daughter to have a water view. Not missing a beat, he responded: “It’s dark outside, you can’t see anything.” 

“Well, he’s certainly taking his pirate role seriously,” I muttered to Bailey as we moved on.

Luck was on our side, however: at our reassigned table, we sat with a darling couple who’d also missed the fine print and were in their street clothes. Also seated at our table was Peg Leg, a man who, we learned, is a fixture at every Pirate Invasion. He sat silently at the end of the table for most of dinner — until the rum punch had flowed and the pirate songs became a bit more bawdy. Soon enough, he was singing along, popping his peg leg into the air in time to the music. We joined in, too. 

Saturday’s festivities began at 11 a.m., which was fine by me — like these pirates, I am not an early riser. In keeping with my daughter’s request, I had ordered full-body costumes on Amazon. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize I’d actually ordered two British Red Coat costumes until I unpacked them the day of the Invasion. Not quite the right costumes — wrong enemies and off by a few decades  — but at least they showed effort. We zipped ourselves into our polyester pantsuits, donned our tricornered hats and set off.

The day was bright and clear — perfect for a skirmish. Parking our golf cart in a metered spot, we found seats along the dock. Around us, Front Street was bustling with throngs of pirates, scads of colonial-garbed people and curious onlookers in plainclothes. Bailey and I, in our matching Red Coat outfits (plus sunglasses), blended right in. She couldn’t stop laughing at my strap-on boot covers, nor I at her buck shoes with socks. 

The colonial encampment, where the reenactment takes place, is set up along the span of the Grayden Paul Park downtown on the waterfront. Though partitioned off from the public, we could see the various tents, a communal kitchen, a fire pit, laundry lines and a tarot card reader within the camp. 

The crowd was in high spirits as we watched the Spanish pirate boat approach the encampment. We heard shouting and cannons being fired! There was a heated exchange between the pirates on the boat and the colonists on land. The Spanish ship docked, and Spaniards began marching onto land. There was a skirmish with swords and guns flailing and then the Spanish flag went up the flagpole — the signal for intermission. 

The crowd dispersed for lunch and Bailey and I headed to Wild Will’s Root Beer stand, where we splurged on the signature Pirate Invasion root beer steins. We grabbed a quick lunch of fish and chips (and pinot grigio) at Queen Anne’s Revenge restaurant on the waterfront. 

Afterwards, meandering through the colonial demonstration area, we stopped at two different ironsmith tents where they were making fire pokers and other tools for campfire cooking. We shopped a bit in the retail tent, which had stylish vintage items spanning from hand-blown colored-glass bottles to men’s top hats. We sampled a stew from the campfire cooking area. We took laughing photos of ourselves, headlocked in the pillory. 

Trying to stay on Invasion schedule, we hustled 500 feet from the waterfront to the Beaufort Historical Society property for the pirate trial at the old jail. We did not find the pirate trial, as billed, but there was live music on the porch, a free-standing puppet show and an arts and crafts area. We took a moment to walk through Mattie Davis King Art Gallery on the Historical Society property. Pirates and Red Coats alike saluted each other as we passed.

Back to the docks: In the second act, there was another skirmish and the pirates were defeated. The program gave way to a sword fighting demonstration with bawdy jokes. Bailey and I finagled a picture with the headliners.

With the programming over for the day, the final stop was The Backstreet Pub, a much-loved watering hole for innumerable boat crews, college students, pirates and folks just looking for a good time for the past hundred years. Bailey and I each enjoyed a very cold Budweiser as we listened to live music.
As the sun began to dip, I sensed a shift in the atmosphere — and noticed that racks of adult-themed, leather pirate gear were being rolled out. Time to take my daughter home. 

The next morning, a few of the Carrot Island wild ponies appeared just across the creek and we opted to stay home to enjoy the view. Sitting out on our porch, we enjoyed the shouts from the skirmish and cannon fire. When the trumpets sounded and the crowd cheered in honor of the colonists’ perseverance, we raised our root beer steins (this time filled with coffee) to their victory.

But upstairs in my closet, our costumes still hang in hopes Bailey is willing to come with me again this year. 

The Pirate Invasion takes place Nov. 14-15. Learn more at thebeaufortpirateinvasion.com

This article originally appeared in the November 2025 issue of WALTER magazine.