khassandraEdisto Island, South Carolina
June 19th 2007 15:27
Being a Georgia girl, when I’m not traveling abroad I often take my summer vacations in small doses to the Appalachian Mountains of Georgia or North Carolina and to the beaches of the Georgia and South Carolina coastal islands. Georgia mountains and beaches are not big events—they are inconsequential by most counts, but I’m happy to have them both and sometimes it’s nice to get away from rolling suburban hills even if it is for mountain with homogeneous vegetation from base to summit or a beach where the water, sky, and sand scarcely vary in color and composition. There’s something nice about climbing to the top of something or hearing an ocean breeze that is the same wherever you are.
So here I am for a week at Edisto Island, South Carolina, about 3 and half hours from my hometown of Augusta, Georgia. We go here every summer, my boyfriend’s family and I, and we read, cook fresh seafood, and stay out in the sun, all as much as we can stand in a single week. Edisto Island, for its residents, is much like the rest of the South Carolina low country, where people live in a sort of jungle, get their livelihood from farming, fishing, and shrimping, and have a hammock (or, our favorite, a queen-sized mattress and box spring suspended from a tree by four cords). The only real affluence here comes in for vacation to homes that either go vacant the rest of the year or are rented out. We rent a house on the beach that has probably never been lived in by anyone but vacationers, and although there are golf neighborhoods around the island, I doubt that any of the owners of those houses stay here year-round either, because although there’s a golf course there’s still only one school on the entire island and one Piggly Wiggly (the grocery store, for you non-Carolinians). But every year we like to try to get to know the island a little better. We used to just explore different beaches and points when shelling, but last year we decided to go on a boat tour.
Last year’s boat tour was, to put it mildly, not what we expected. We booked this tour with Captain Ron, who is about 65 and incidentally dresses like some cross between a college-aged pot head and a pirate—he has worn-out cargo shorts, a cap, and hiking sandals with self-repairs, as well as a braided beard (and I wouldn’t have been surprised by a glass eye). He carries a medicine bag around his neck, supposedly with the bones of his ancestors inside. He takes us to his marsh dock and we go out in his motorized fishing boat, all while he berates people for ruining the ecosystem by building docks and using boats. We drop some nets and pull up some small shrimp and crabs, and it’s interesting to see what’s down in the marsh, but it’s hard to ignore his constant spiritual prattle and self-righteous attitude. He acts like he was raised by native Americans and has some spiritual claim to this land, but he’s just a white guy to me.
So this year we leave behind Captain Ron and meet up with Captain Jimmy, whose father owns the Bell Buoy, where we buy our fresh shrimp and fish. Captain Jimmy takes us to his marsh dock and we go out in his motorized boat, which is something like a pontoon boat, but with rigging on it for shrimping (a crane that extends out the back to tow a large net). Jimmy takes us around the marsh and shows us some different islands (including an island with rattlesnakes on it and an island with over 4,000 monkeys used for medical research) and tells us a little bit about what the marsh is like in high and low tides (pointing out sand bars and deep trenches of 40 feet or so only a couple of feet from the marsh grass). We fish a few times, not catching much (but Jimmy says the fishing has been bad since the tropical storm) and throw out a shrimp net and pull it back in with a lot of shrimp, a stingray, another ray without a barb, some little fish of various kinds, some little crabs, and even a little squid. Jimmy carefully removes the stingray, with barb exposed, so that we won’t get pricked by the poisonous barb, and then we poke around, holding the shrimp and the crabs and the ray and laughing about how slimy or tickly they are. It’s a good time—and then we keep the shrimp and throw the fish back for the dolphins that have gathered around the boat when they heard the sound of the shrimp net being reeled in. Dolphins love to follow the shrimpers because they know they can get a lot of freebies, whether by picking them out of the net while it’s in the water or getting food thrown to them. So we have some fun with the dolphins that are all around, and seeing one surface and glide away never seems to get old. Then we finish up our trip by picking up some crab traps we set earlier—we catch nine total, but nothing big enough to keep, so we marvel at our crabbing prowess and set them loose.
The trip with Jimmy Bell is great—we learn a lot about the marsh and get up close with a huge variety of ocean wildlife—and as the icing on the cake, we also learn that Captain Ron is originally from Columbia, South Carolina’s capitol city, and moved here thirty years ago. Suddenly I don’t feel so bad about not taking him seriously. Jimmy is concerned with the environment, too—like anyone who depends on its produce, he notices that fishing and shrimping is harder because of the inclement weather, and he knows that last year when sand was dredged to build up the beach a lot of wildlife was disturbed or relocated, though who’s to know exactly how it’s affected the ecosystem. But Jimmy knows that these things happen, and the best you can do is be as good as you can to the environment, follow the rules, and make sure that others do too. Don’t put anything in or take anything out that you’re not supposed to. That’s our very practical lesson from a shrimper. Don’t believe everything you hear—that’s our somewhat belated lesson from Ron.
If you’re ever in Edisto, I highly recommend looking up Jimmy Bell and seeing if he can fit you into his schedule for a few hours’ boat ride. You can get a really cool look at the marsh that surrounds you on the island and just enjoy being out on the water. He’s fantastic with kids and kids love his tour, and even if you’re not a kid you’ll enjoy being around him because he’s just the nicest man I’ve ever met. Don’t look up Captain Ron unless you’re in search of an adventure of the atypical kind—and I mean like you really need a good story to tell.
So here I am for a week at Edisto Island, South Carolina, about 3 and half hours from my hometown of Augusta, Georgia. We go here every summer, my boyfriend’s family and I, and we read, cook fresh seafood, and stay out in the sun, all as much as we can stand in a single week. Edisto Island, for its residents, is much like the rest of the South Carolina low country, where people live in a sort of jungle, get their livelihood from farming, fishing, and shrimping, and have a hammock (or, our favorite, a queen-sized mattress and box spring suspended from a tree by four cords). The only real affluence here comes in for vacation to homes that either go vacant the rest of the year or are rented out. We rent a house on the beach that has probably never been lived in by anyone but vacationers, and although there are golf neighborhoods around the island, I doubt that any of the owners of those houses stay here year-round either, because although there’s a golf course there’s still only one school on the entire island and one Piggly Wiggly (the grocery store, for you non-Carolinians). But every year we like to try to get to know the island a little better. We used to just explore different beaches and points when shelling, but last year we decided to go on a boat tour.
Last year’s boat tour was, to put it mildly, not what we expected. We booked this tour with Captain Ron, who is about 65 and incidentally dresses like some cross between a college-aged pot head and a pirate—he has worn-out cargo shorts, a cap, and hiking sandals with self-repairs, as well as a braided beard (and I wouldn’t have been surprised by a glass eye). He carries a medicine bag around his neck, supposedly with the bones of his ancestors inside. He takes us to his marsh dock and we go out in his motorized fishing boat, all while he berates people for ruining the ecosystem by building docks and using boats. We drop some nets and pull up some small shrimp and crabs, and it’s interesting to see what’s down in the marsh, but it’s hard to ignore his constant spiritual prattle and self-righteous attitude. He acts like he was raised by native Americans and has some spiritual claim to this land, but he’s just a white guy to me.
So this year we leave behind Captain Ron and meet up with Captain Jimmy, whose father owns the Bell Buoy, where we buy our fresh shrimp and fish. Captain Jimmy takes us to his marsh dock and we go out in his motorized boat, which is something like a pontoon boat, but with rigging on it for shrimping (a crane that extends out the back to tow a large net). Jimmy takes us around the marsh and shows us some different islands (including an island with rattlesnakes on it and an island with over 4,000 monkeys used for medical research) and tells us a little bit about what the marsh is like in high and low tides (pointing out sand bars and deep trenches of 40 feet or so only a couple of feet from the marsh grass). We fish a few times, not catching much (but Jimmy says the fishing has been bad since the tropical storm) and throw out a shrimp net and pull it back in with a lot of shrimp, a stingray, another ray without a barb, some little fish of various kinds, some little crabs, and even a little squid. Jimmy carefully removes the stingray, with barb exposed, so that we won’t get pricked by the poisonous barb, and then we poke around, holding the shrimp and the crabs and the ray and laughing about how slimy or tickly they are. It’s a good time—and then we keep the shrimp and throw the fish back for the dolphins that have gathered around the boat when they heard the sound of the shrimp net being reeled in. Dolphins love to follow the shrimpers because they know they can get a lot of freebies, whether by picking them out of the net while it’s in the water or getting food thrown to them. So we have some fun with the dolphins that are all around, and seeing one surface and glide away never seems to get old. Then we finish up our trip by picking up some crab traps we set earlier—we catch nine total, but nothing big enough to keep, so we marvel at our crabbing prowess and set them loose.
The trip with Jimmy Bell is great—we learn a lot about the marsh and get up close with a huge variety of ocean wildlife—and as the icing on the cake, we also learn that Captain Ron is originally from Columbia, South Carolina’s capitol city, and moved here thirty years ago. Suddenly I don’t feel so bad about not taking him seriously. Jimmy is concerned with the environment, too—like anyone who depends on its produce, he notices that fishing and shrimping is harder because of the inclement weather, and he knows that last year when sand was dredged to build up the beach a lot of wildlife was disturbed or relocated, though who’s to know exactly how it’s affected the ecosystem. But Jimmy knows that these things happen, and the best you can do is be as good as you can to the environment, follow the rules, and make sure that others do too. Don’t put anything in or take anything out that you’re not supposed to. That’s our very practical lesson from a shrimper. Don’t believe everything you hear—that’s our somewhat belated lesson from Ron.
If you’re ever in Edisto, I highly recommend looking up Jimmy Bell and seeing if he can fit you into his schedule for a few hours’ boat ride. You can get a really cool look at the marsh that surrounds you on the island and just enjoy being out on the water. He’s fantastic with kids and kids love his tour, and even if you’re not a kid you’ll enjoy being around him because he’s just the nicest man I’ve ever met. Don’t look up Captain Ron unless you’re in search of an adventure of the atypical kind—and I mean like you really need a good story to tell.
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Comment by D. Armenta
The Florida Keys and Everglades
The Black Sheep Chronicles
What constitutes bad manners?
The male mystique
Debate Fan
L.A.M.P.
Edisto Island sounds like it's changed a lot since I saw it in the 80s, but still cool. Glad I found your site!
D.
Comment by katyzzz
Photography Tips
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MS Paint Art
Really interesting reading, I'm still running from the rattle snakes, and the monkeys aren't really very friendly either.
It was a great tale of the sea and I always claim I was a fish in a previous life, so I feel very comfortable with all of that.
The dolphins sound wonderful.
You painted a fine picture with a marvellous theme and atmosphere.
katyzzz
Comment by Anonymous
*He lives with 2 women in a teepee on the island.
*He named his 2 sons Tide and Marsh
*He believes he owns that creek (Frampton's Inlet.
He is what we call, cookoo
Comment by Lesley
Comment by Schooney
Comment by Anonymous