Hello High Island

By Helen Bryant

High Island isn’t all that high, and it’s not really an island. It’s part of the Bolivar Peninsula. But, then again, since you have to cross a bridge over the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway to get there, maybe the whole peninsula qualifies as an island. High Island’s 38-foot elevation makes it the highest point on the Gulf of Mexico between Mobile, Alabama, and Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula—a span of more than 600 miles. It’s high enough that when a hurricane comes along, this 1,100-acre salt dome is sometimes the only thing sticking out of the water.

That’s one of High Island’s claims to fame. Another is that it’s one of the best birdwatching sites in the nation. Birds like trees, and this place has a lot. So six bird sanctuaries sit on this little rise, and people come from all over the world to visit them.

The community also has a rich oil history. In the 1930s, high-producing fields around the salt dome created an oil boom; at one time, as many as 200 wells actively pumped oil. Dozens continue to pump away, with the occasional group of cattle grazing nearby.

High Islanders have even more stories to tell—about the muskrat-trapping operations of the 1940s and 1950s; about Jean Lafitte’s cabin boy, who is buried here; and about a quick and painless visit from Bonnie and Clyde. That’s a lot of lore for a tiny town of 500 that takes about three minutes to drive through.

See the full article in the February 2008 issue.

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