Georgetown to McLellanvill
Parenting award goes to…Jonathan and Ellen.
Q: Why is Moss having difficulty as she walks around Georgetown?
A: Because of the incident with the bourbon bottle.
(It’s not what you think. When Moss opened the liquor cabinet to avail herself of the M&Ms that we keep with all the other controlled substances on board, a nearly full bottle of bourbon fell out of the cabinet and smashed her poor toe. She has been limping ever since.)
Saturday in Georgetown we had a busy, fun, productive day. Started out when we went to the town dock so Ellen could give me a haircut. Combine that with the shave I gave myself Friday and I was ready for a day on the town. There is no doubt I made an already hot day that much steamier.
After the haircut, we did a load of laundry at the Harborside Marina. While the clothes were sloshing in the machine, we all checked out the Georgetown maritime museum. Excellent little place (also free). We learned all about the convoluted history of Georgetown. It was a major lumber town for decades. Also a major rice producer. When the New England states had stripped their forests of pine, much of the lumber for shipbuilding (in places like Bath, Maine) came from the South, shipping in particular from Georgetown. Want to get disturbed about the rapacious nature of human beings? Read the excellent Annie Proulx book “Barkskins.”
Years ago on the far side of little Goat Island where we anchored there was a 1,200 foot long wharf where three big schooners could load lumber at once. There was a major steel-manufacturing industry here, lots of ferry traffic and commercial traffic on the rivers nearby. Hemp and exotic hardwoods and cotton and rice and lumber and steel all came through Georgetown for many years.
The Civil War saw blockades of the harbor by Union forces. A mine built in town sunk the flagship of the Union blockade fleet (two days after Confederate surrender in Charlestown).
The town is full of interesting historical markers and lovely buildings. There is great dinghy access at the town docks, the anchorage (although a little noisy on weekdays because of the steel mill and a little stinky in an unfavorable wind because of the paper mill) is calm and boasts 360 degree protection.
Ellen got a haircut at a beauty salon called Hair-apy. Moss was concerned that Ellen was getting a perm because when we walked in, the place smelled like old ladies.
Another benefit Georgetown offers is that it is very cruiser friendly. Most of what a transient sailor could want is right on Front Street. The town is cute and interesting. The owner of the coffee shop across the street from the dinghy dock has a van (Toyota Previa for those keeping score at home) he loans to cruisers. He offered it to us this morning, so along with another couple (Canadian, friendly, traveling from Quebec to Titusville, Florida on a Nordic Tug 27) we went grocery shopping and got Cupcake’s propane tank filled.
We also went to The Strand, the local independent movie theater to watch a matinee of “Won’t You Be My Neighbor” the film about Fred Rogers. I found the movie bittersweet because Mr. Rogers, who was an important figure in my youth, embodied a type of acceptance and optimism that is utterly absent in our public figures today. Couple the movie with today’s news out of Washington about the shameless, craven, Susan Collins, and I am feeling a little bit gloomy right now.
I had been on a pretty strict no-news diet. But I joined a Facebook group about the ICW (lots of useful information) and have been looking at Facebook for the first time in years. Unfortunately lots of political unpleasantness seeps through and then I take a quick look at the NY Times or even the Bangor Daily News and I’m re-appalled at the state of discourse in this nation, at the hypocritical, self-serving politicians, at the willful blindness and selfish ignorance, at the schism in the country, and I get very depressed again.
So I’ve decided to forego all the news, even at the expense of getting information about the ICW because I just can’t take it anymore, not even in tiny doses.
As friendly as most everyone is around here, we were a little shocked about how ungenerous the manager at Harborwalk Marina was this morning. When Ellen asked if we could use their pay washer and dryer, she was told she could, but would have to pay a $5 premium for the privilege. She was told that $5 would allow her and Moss to shower, but if I wanted to shower as well, it would be another $5. We understand the marina is a business trying to make money, but the fee seemed both arbitrary and petty.
In any event, we have clean laundry and showered aboard. For dinner we watched two Wallace and Gromit short films while we ate a delicious pizza we picked up in town. We will definitely come back to Georgetown on our trip north in the spring.
From Georgetown we had a short ride down the ICW to Five Fathom Creek, right near the metropolis of McLellanville. We initially tried to make it down the channel to McLellanville, but at low tide there just wasn’t enough water for Cupcake. We touched bottom, backed out, and found a different spot for the night.
After everyone had a read, a nap, and Moss had some education, we dinghied to check out the 1,000 year old oak tree in town. Very cool. We couldn’t understand why Moss was utterly unimpressed. Then we all realized she thought it was only 100 years old. Moving the decimal place made all the difference.
Monday we continued on our way towards Charleston. Initially we had planned, upon arriving at Charleston, to anchor near town. Then as we watched hurricane Michael develop into a significant event, we decided to find more a more secure harbor for later in the week. The pretty exposed anchorages and marinas near Charleston seemed like poor choices considering what weather may be coming. So Monday morning we made reservations at a marina a little outside of Charleston. The St. Johns Yacht Harbor looks more protected, with significantly less fetch than the city options. (Non-sailors: fetch is the word for open stretches of water over which wind can build larger waves.)
Monday afternoon we are anchored in another creek and are nestled among miles and miles of marsh grass. The water, while still not clear, is definitely cleaner. It’s khaki-colored and there have been a multitude of dolphins. Last night while I was showering, I heard a pair of dolphins hunting for their dinner just a few dozen feet behind Cupcake.
This morning Moss was watching the world pass by when she saw a fin and shouted “shark!” It was a dolphin, but it’s good to know she is paying attention. By the way, her toe is feeling much better.
We’ve also been seeing lots of bird life here in the marshes. Watched pelicans and laughing gulls dive for fish. Saw a formation of flamingos fly overhead, looking shockingly pink. Saw a scruffy-looking bald eagle sitting on a channel marker, and another better groomed one flying across the water. And we have been seeing white birds that look like they could be terns flying about (but I have no idea because our bird book is not so good at teaching the ignorant how to identify bird species).
Three of the many areas where my knowledge is shamefully limited include identifying birds, identifying plants, and identifying constellations. I know a handful of birds, the names of maybe six different kind of plants (tomato, maple, oak, apple, dandelion, and now Spanish Moss), and on the overnight sail, Orion and Cassiopeia and the Big Dipper were all I could manage.