Jersey City of the South and Mosquito killers

July 12-14

In an effort to get as close to the ferry point for Cape Hatteras, we drove most of the day Saturday north on Interstate 95, and pulled into our first Walmart for the night in Goldsboro, North Carolina. We parked all the way in the back, and shut the blinds, turned the generator on, and cooked a great Chinese stir fry for dinner. It wasn’t bad at all, and the 24-hour security guy driving around never said a word. I guess Walmart really does allow RV-ers to park overnight.

The next day, we drove about 100 miles along highway 79 to Morehead City on the coast. After securing our spot at another Walmart (definitely not as nice as the last one), we drove to Atlantic Beach with the dogs. A long stretch of sandy beach, cluttered with tacky holiday surf and gift shops along the way, this place reminds me more of Jersey than a small town seafront in North Carolina. It was interesting to see that many people were living in the neighborhoods on the coast, unlike most of Florida where it seems all but a few of the places are huge rentals. Later, we wandered down to Beaufort, which I believe, is North Carolina’s third oldest town. Very quaint and well preserved, we walked along the waterfront, poking our heads into small galleries and a really cool wooden boat making shop. On Monday, Shaune caught up with some work, and I took the dogs back down to the beach for a run and a shower. Although our RV has exceeded our expectations in most ways, the shower pressure, understandably, doesn’t quite cut it. It’s actually easier to shower at the park showers, or the outdoor beach shower in this case. On my way home, I bought some fresh scallops from a stand along the side of road for dinner. Around 11am, we drove to catch our 2pm ferry from Cedar Island to Ocracoke. Driving the RV onto the ferry was completely seamless, and the 2.5 hour long trip was really relaxing. After we arrived, we drove a short distance to Ocracoke National Park campsite for the night. There was only one big sand dune that separated us from the ocean. The park was quiet; we had wild bunnies and deer running around the site. But, to this day (and this includes 2 years in Thailand), neither of us has ever experienced such terrible mosquitoes. When we arrived at the dump station, we got out, and were attacked in force, both of us nearly panicking. We soon learned that long trousers and sleeves were a necessity, as well as DEET insect repellant; something both of us had always insisted was not for us.

Skidaway Island and Savannah

July 6-12

To say the least, we have some major blog catching up to do. We spent nearly a week at Skidaway State Park, about 15 miles outside of Savannah visiting two friends, Ally and Olli. Shaune caught up on some work, while I explored historic Savannah and wrote a bit. This was the starting point of our fishing attempts. We purchased a surf and pier rod and a crab trap. In the evenings, we went out with Ally and Olly and fished off a local pier. The terrain around Skidaway is mostly saltwater marsh and incredibly pristine and beautiful.

A few evenings, Ally and Olli took us jet skiing, which was a blast. Actually, Shaune and I went flying off the ski while Ally was driving at about 49 mph! I could feel my sore lungs the next day. Another day, Shaune and I went to Bonaventure cemetery, Wormsloe Plantation, and downtown Savannah for some pretty bad fish and chips and crawfish. That’s what usually happens, in every country I suppose, when you are in a touristy area and don’t have local knowledge of a good place to eat. We decided to try and get recommendations from now on. We have really been enjoying all of the fresh shrimp and scallops that are available in stands and shops along the coast, so our seafood standards are rising.

This was our second visit to Savannah, and it struck me as a bit sleepy. Other than its historical beauty and intrigue, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot going on in the way of culture, progress, innovation, etc. Many of the high street shops seem to be outdated and far from the trendy, current shops in nearby Charleston. It will be interesting to see how Savannah survives on its history alone.

Sapelo Island

July 5, 2008

Georgia’s Sapelo Island Keeps its Secret

On a recent ferry ride to Sapelo Island, a long-time resident who was transporting a pressure washer from the mainland, joked during a conversation we were having that Sapelo island shares its size and shape with the island of Manhattan.

With 80 residents, only 47 of whom are permanent, any comparison of Sapelo to Manhattan seems oxymoronic, at best. As the older gentleman leans back on the bench in laughter at my befuddled response, I begin to understand the irony.

The 30-minute ferry ride to the island winds its way through a maze of estuaries and marshes covered with vibrant green oyster grass. Although Sapelo is the fourth largest of the barrier islands sprinkled along Georgia’s coast and only 60 miles south of Savannah, visitors may only visit the island on a State Park guided tour or through an official invitation by one of the permanent residents.

All but 434 acres of the island belong to the State of Georgia and its three major wildlife, marine, and research programs. Despite the island’s natural beauty, its sheer isolation seems to have kept all but the most dedicated at bay. It wasn’t until 1967 that Georgia Power arrived on the Island and, aside from a small market that sells basic snacks, all products must be brought over by the state ferry that runs twice a day or private boat; a luxury most residents can’t afford. Once a car is ferried to the island, no tags or registration are required. The island’s 13 school-age children take the 7am ferry everyday to commute to a school in Darien on the mainland. Aside from the inconvenience, job opportunities are extremely limited, and as young residents move off of the island for work and education, the population continues to decline.

As we bobbed down on of the island’s washboard dirt roads, our State Park tour guide recalled the island’s rich history. First occupied by Guale Native Americans, the island was a battleground between the Spanish, French and British. In the 19^th century, the island was home to several African American slave settlements, and after the Civil War, many freed slaves moved back to the island. retaining much of their Gullah heritage. Based on English with a creole flavor, Gullah contains hints of vocabulary and grammar elements from several West African languages. Today, most of the residents can still trace their heritage back to the 19^th century.

A number of wealthy landowners also claimed ownership of the island, including Thomas Spalding, a wealthy plantation owner who purchased the south end of the island in 1802, and later automotive engineer Howard Coffin who sold ownership to tobacco baron RJ Reynolds in 1934. In 1950, Reynolds set up the Sapelo Island Research Foundation, and later Reynold’s widow sold her belongings to the State of Georgia. A decade after he purchased the island, Reynolds consolidated all of the African American communities into one, Hog Hammock, which still exists today. Set back from the lazy winding dirt roads, the majority of the resident houses are modest, shotgun-style wooden homes surrounded by large, tidy yards. Horses and cows wander freely from yard to yard. Despite the modesty, however, the vacation home potential that the island holds hasn’t gone unnoticed by developers and wealthy suburbanites. In an effort to preserve the island’s cultural heritage, community leaders recently fought successfully to limit all private houses to no bigger larger than 1,400 square feet.

On our way to the island’s curiously dubbed “Behavior Cemetery,” we passed Live Oak trees dripping with Spanish Moss with enormous limbs covered with resurection ferns shared space with Saw Palmettos. Reynolds’ impact on the island could stil be witnessed. We passed the longest strip of grass in Georgia that previously served as a sugarcane plantation, which Reynolds turned into a landing strip for he and his visiting guests. The Reynolds mansion, originally built by Thomas Spalding out of tabby, a then commonly used mixture of lime, shells, and water, still remains and can be reserved for larger groups.

On the southern tip of the island stands the red and white Sapelo Island lighthouse. Built in 1820, the lighthouse suffered several debilitating bouts with hurricanes, but underwent reconstruction in 1998 and now serves as a fully functioning navigation aid.

Sapelo Island offers visitors a rare glimpse into the past, and it seems local residents are determined to keep it that way.

4th of July & saltwater marshes

July 4, 2008

As we made our way over a number of bridges over lowland marshes, with vibrant shades of green grasses interrupted only by glistening tide pools and landing egrets and herons, we arrived at McIntosh Lake RV Park, Exit 58 off of the I95. Situated next to a small, man-made lake, it’s a typical RV Park right off of an Interstate. But it really feels like we are in the middle of nowhere. The Rv-ers here a typical: white-haired, overweight, and from all over the country. Whenever I find myself in a place out of the way like this, I always wonder why anyone is here in the first place. Strangely enough, our next door neighbors are from England, they bought a huge RV coach and are traveling all over. Others have come for fishing, some work afar and live here part-time, one single man works for Coca Cola, another couple arrived last night from California, in an older Winnebago. Anyway, one group of older friends have formed a semi-circle, donning Uncle Sam red, white and blue cardboard hats.

Shaune spent most of the day working, so I took off in the car to Darien, Ga., a tiny riverside town about 10 miles south. Its biggest claim to fame is the King George Fort: the first fort built by the British in Georgia. There wasn’t much to see in the sleepy town itself, but the Spanish moss hanging from the Live Oak trees was pretty amazing. A few remains of old Tabby buildings (a concrete like mixture, composed of Oyster shells and lime) were not far from the waterfront.

Aside from that, other highlights included a run alongside Hwy 57, with semi trucks blasting past me, covering me with grit. I suppose, what does one expect from an RV park this close to an Interstate? Shaune finally broke down and purchased and Internet card, and he’s walking around boasting that the Internet can no longer hide from him! Anyway, it should make work for both of us more secure and reliable. After a trip to Brunswick, he came back with an inflatable canoe, which we promptly inflated and bobbed around in the lake at the park. It should be fun when we get to our next stop.

Departure

July 1-2, 2008

Yesterday, we left dad’s house on the first leg of our journey, with a few expected delays getting going. Our car, which went on the trailer (we are towing our Mazda 3 hatchback on the trip, the back tires remain on the ground) without any glitches when we left Atlanta, kept catching on the front of the trailer, nearly tearing off the entire front bumper. After a few attempts, Shaune used some blocks to elevate the car, which worked in the end. After we drove off, we stopped at the first gas station just outside of Boston, Ga., to get enough gas to get us the Interstate. It was pretty funny, because we also decided to put air in one of the trailer tires, which was really low. It’s incredibly difficult (for now, anyway) to back up with the trailer – any twisting could result in jackknifing the trailer, which means taking the entire trailer off, or worse. After many unsuccessful attempts at backing up to the air pump, we finally drove around the back and parked nicely in front of the air pump. Our next attempt to get gas failed, as we pulled into a station off of the I75 that was impossible to turn around in. The next gas stop went well, and we put a whopping 210$ into our “rig” (I have heard that we will need to become at ease with calling our RV a rig, I am having great difficulty).

We arrived at Anastasia State Park just outside of St. Augustine, Fla., around 3:30, and checked in to our site, which is a beautiful, secluded site surrounded by palmetto bushes, shaded completely by gnarled, twisted oak trees. Our friend David visited from Jacksonville for the night, as Shaune and I cooked dinner, realizing all of the stuff that we had forgotten at Dad’s. He’s sending us a box to Savannah, one of our upcoming stops.

Today we took a long walk along the beach, and later ate a late lunch at Osteins, a local diner-type place that specializes in fried shrimp, just before the Bridge of Lions. In the late afternoon, we drove in to St. Augustine and wandered the streets; we had Pete and Boris (our two canine traveling companions), so we skipped museums, and just slowly walked around the Old Town. Despite its appeal, the shops seem to be caught in a time warp. Out of style women’s dresses filled store windows, dust covered windowsills. We did see a school of dolphins circling a shark in the Mantanzas Bay, in front of the Castillo. A homeless man poking around the oyster clusters on the shore told us, that the dolphins were killing the shark by biting and butting its head until it dies. Occasionally, the shark would fling its tail or head above water in an attempt to escape.

Tomorrow we are heading to a private RV camp in Townsend, Ga., near Sapelo Island.