I’m anchored just in the current scoured basin of Awendaw Creek just inside a marsh spit lined with oyster reefs. Both Google Earth and a dinghy row of a few hundred yards make it appear that a large bay, wide open to the ocean, lies just around the point. It was hard to believe, sitting there in the dinghy, that you could walk nearly to the horizon on a calm day without your head going under water. Once the creek opens up into the bay and the current slows, the basin shoals rapidly.
The amazing part of the morning is that my oldest son is waking up today as an adult. 21 years ago today was certainly the most amazing morning of my life. It’s going to be the first Christmas of their lives that I haven’t been with my sons. Like all things, the cruising life has its price.
We ran down from Georgetown yesterday through the land cuts that cross the North and South Santee Rivers. Coming into the north river, I saw whale like spouts a couple hundred yards away which I decided could only be dolphins despite the seemingly improbably location. I never knew that they spouted. A large fishing boat had just passed and gone down the river so perhaps they had stayed down longer than usual.
Inside the canal after the South Santee, I suddenly saw dolphins ahead. They came over and played around the boat even longer and more energetically than the pod we saw in Beaufort. There were several very small ones so it looked like a family group showing the children how to have fun.
It was a beautiful run down through the marshes. I’ve discovered the trick of standing up on the cabin top with the autopilot remote for a view over the banks and the miles and miles of wildlife reserve apparently untouched human activity. In reality though, the higher islands covered with hardwoods and pine trees which make the landscape so interesting are the spoil piled up from dredging out the land cut. Lee and Lynn went to the Rice Museum in Georgetown so they were able to tell me that the wooden structures along the eastern banks were the sluice gates of old rice fields. A child used to be stationed at each sluice gate at certain times of year with a bar of soap and instructions to keep washing his hands. Whenever the soap made suds, the gates were opened. When the suds stopped, the gates were closed to keep salt water out of the fields.
It’s a short run today just to get close enough to Charleston to be sure of a Monday arrival. We’ll have a chance to do some exploring of the marshes and inlets just this side of the city.
Oyster Reef
The amazing part of the morning is that my oldest son is waking up today as an adult. 21 years ago today was certainly the most amazing morning of my life. It’s going to be the first Christmas of their lives that I haven’t been with my sons. Like all things, the cruising life has its price.
We ran down from Georgetown yesterday through the land cuts that cross the North and South Santee Rivers. Coming into the north river, I saw whale like spouts a couple hundred yards away which I decided could only be dolphins despite the seemingly improbably location. I never knew that they spouted. A large fishing boat had just passed and gone down the river so perhaps they had stayed down longer than usual.
Inside the canal after the South Santee, I suddenly saw dolphins ahead. They came over and played around the boat even longer and more energetically than the pod we saw in Beaufort. There were several very small ones so it looked like a family group showing the children how to have fun.
It was a beautiful run down through the marshes. I’ve discovered the trick of standing up on the cabin top with the autopilot remote for a view over the banks and the miles and miles of wildlife reserve apparently untouched human activity. In reality though, the higher islands covered with hardwoods and pine trees which make the landscape so interesting are the spoil piled up from dredging out the land cut. Lee and Lynn went to the Rice Museum in Georgetown so they were able to tell me that the wooden structures along the eastern banks were the sluice gates of old rice fields. A child used to be stationed at each sluice gate at certain times of year with a bar of soap and instructions to keep washing his hands. Whenever the soap made suds, the gates were opened. When the suds stopped, the gates were closed to keep salt water out of the fields.
It’s a short run today just to get close enough to Charleston to be sure of a Monday arrival. We’ll have a chance to do some exploring of the marshes and inlets just this side of the city.
Oyster Reef
