WE BE Bloggin with LowCountry Joe®

The Sound of Freedom

Memorial Day 2008 starts out like most Mondays on the Island of Daufuskie. Warm Southerly   breezes drifting off the ocean bring the sound of waves inland and Mother Nature's blessing blends in with the passionate singing of mockingbirds and a plethora of feathered wonders hidden in trees of green.

It's mid morning and with coffee cup in hand, I settle into my favorite rocker on the historic porch of the Bloody Point Lighthouse, close my eyes and "take in" what has become "a favorite symphony". My feathered friends respond in kind and as if on cue delight me with a premier "Fuskie" performance. But as with Memorial Days past, they know and I know that our pristine sensual experience is short lived. Like a storm approaching from the West, distant rumbling will be heard. The echoes will be muffled at first but soon what the Indians would have called, giant steel birds, make their presence over Hilton Head and "The Sound of Freedom" will reverberate over Calibogue Sound.

Each year I make a determined effort to attend a local  Memorial Day Service. Coming from a long line of "soldiers" and as a Viet Nam veteran myself, the day takes on a very special meaning. But this year I have decided not to attend in person but be there in a "mental vision" sort of way. Then I can "snuff out" unwanted images of folks that are not really there for "moments of reverence" but only for the excitement of seeing fighter planes streak through the sky. I can visually see what's important , battled scarred soldiers, their aged faces  looking reverently to the heavens as young men and women a third of their age proudly ride sophisticated rockets through the air. I can visually see them put their hands on their hearts or raise their hand in salute as the sound of taps waifs over  Lowcountry marshes. I can visually see the tears they discretely whisk away so that no one will see, even though these tears should be seen as a form of honored strength and not weakness.

It's time for a second cup of coffee and I make my way to my Bride's kitchen. I'm just about to pour when a thundering sound quickly approaches, dishes rattle in the cupboard and a shrill streaking noise booms overhead. I rush outside and look to the sky but all I see is Carolina blue. And then it happens, a second steel bird makes it presence known, its big engines kicking in, putting on a "Daufuskie Air Show". The deafening sound quickly disappears. My feathered friends continue their symphony and my spouse rushes out and says "what was that"!!!!  Just  "The Sound of Freedom Honey"....I respond....just the "Sound of Freedom".

Dive To The Jungle

The Camouflaged dark green C-130 circles high somewhere over the dense jungles of Viet Nam. Bright foliage nurtured by abundant rains stretch far into the horizon and seem to meet and touch the cloudless clear blue sky. To the untrained eye this vision would be one of beauty, the kind that is captured by a skilled painter that selects just the right color to portray the rising steamy mist. To the young pilot listening to a crackling radio and looking through his dark aviator glasses for a smoke flare, however, this vision means danger. He reacts instinctively putting the big steel bird into a steep dive. My heart begins to race….the tires hit a just built airstrip…the deafening sound of engines reversing replace the monotonous drone and the once clear sweet air fills with dust. On command the rear door drops open, sweltering heat and humidity engulf the cabin and within minutes our cargo is loaded. This work horse of a plane lunges forward and like an F-14 in an air show we go straight up, harnesses tight against my chest. Soon we are out of reach of the inevitable ground fire and with mission complete we make our way to the relative comfort and safety of Naha, Okinawa.

It’s memorial day thirty nine years later and the festivities have just begun at Marshside Mama’s. An extra bar has been set up outside to accommodate the revelers and boats from Hilton Head and Savannah “raft up” on the small County dock. The aroma of Beth’s incredible gumbo wafts from the confines of her small kitchen and the sound of Budweiser snap tops blend in with the singing of the tree crickets. An industrious local has already started the obligatory campfire and I make the decision to spend part of my early evening just hanging out , roasting a few marshmallows, watching the sunset and talking about the Island’s History with curious guests. I’m right in the middle of the Yemmassee Indian uprising when the sound of an approaching low flying aircraft diverts our attention. One of the fire worshippers comment that it’s just the Coast Guard Helicopter doing their usual training run but once you have heard the drone of a C-130 you never forget it. Sure enough, direct overhead flies the workhorse of our military, probably from the Charleston Air Base, not painted green but camouflaged in timely shades of brown.

Now I have seen these C-130’s fly over before….once there were ten in formation…and I rushed inside yelling to my Bride, Mary….”You got to see this”. But the sight of this lone aircraft on Memorial Day from my past that I had spent so much time in and always admired was just a bit to much to bear. Excusing myself I leaned up against an ancient live oak tree and recalled that day so many years ago as a pimple faced eighteen year old when I experienced my first “dive to the jungle”. You see, that was not just ordinary cargo we were picking up. It was green body bags of young guys just like me. They had dreams of the future and waited anxiously at mail call for that precious letter from home. I remember that seamlessly never ending trip to Naha shivering at high altitude from the cold and sharing that cargo hold with the lifeless bodies that gave their all and the ultimate sacrifice for their beloved country.

Someone puts a dollar in the jukebox and a song Jimmy Buffet wrote about Daufuskie blends in with chatter of the fun loving merrymakers. I make my way to the relative quietness of the dock adorned with an American flag tattered and torn since its unceremonious 9/11 hanging. My harmonica which I had planned to play for fun now is held in trembling hands. The sound of taps drifts over the stillness of the marsh as a tribute to my unknown comrades and to the pimple faced kids of today that are still giving it “their all”.

Electric Cars of Daufuskie

Electric came to Daufuskie in the 50's and drastically improved the way locals would live their lives forevever. Fast forward to May 2008 and a fine company named "Electric Cars of Daufuskie" makes "the scene". Their welcomed presence forever changes how visitors traverse the Island in style checkin' out funky restaurants, a pottery, an historic winery/gift shop, and even a place called the "Iron Fish".

That's right..... now you can rent a fine, classy, "up-town" four "4" passenger Gem Car for a paultry $100.00 a day and have the fun of your life. The fine folks at "ECO Daufuskie" are providing a much needed service to folks Island Wide. These elecric cars, however, will have the biggest impact on folks visiting Daufuskie Island Club and Resort. DICR does not permit their carts from leaving the property. Now, they can rent a Gem Car at the front desk , leave the confines of the Resort behind and get a "true taste" of what our special Island is all about.

As seen in the included pic, these car's are "cool" and really are fun to drive. More importantly, they have safety features not typical of most golf carts. Seat belts and child safety seats are provided and are an important part of having an accident free fun day.

I personnally would like to thank owners B.J. Albaugh and Chris Godfrey for their creative marketing and providing this much needed Island service. We have come a long way from oil filled lamps and beat up pick up trucks with no brakes. I just can't help thinkin' what Bloody Point Lighthouse Keeper, Papy Burn, would have thought.

See Ya on the High Tide....LowCountry Joe...

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For more information and rentals please call 1-843-476-4212

WEB Site coming soon and will be linked in the sidebar of my BLOG www.WeBeBloggin.com

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LowCountry Joe Jewelry Collection

Silver Dew Winery T-Shirts

An entry from Pat Conroy's , acclaimed book the Author of "The Water is Wide", Chapter four (4)  page two (2). "The first time I walked the road I was shocked to see two odd-looking structures on a curve in the road. There was a sign on one of the buildings that read  SILVER DEW WINERY 1953".

After purchasing the "Winery" I spent almost a year  refurbishing  it and replaced the sign noted by Mr. Conroy. Since that time The Silver Dew Winery has become the most photographed structure on the Island and was recently featured in Delta "In Flight" SKY Magazine. It also appears damaged and forlorn in Jean Moutoussamy-Ashe's  recent award winning book "Twenty Fifth Anniversary of Daufuskie" forwarded by Alex Haley. The Silver Dew Winery represents a time in South Carolina LowCountry History when a simpler life prevailed and things like home made wine were drunk with true appreciation

With this in mind I have designed a T-Shirt in honor of Papy and the Winery that he so loved. He would be proud to know that the sign depicted on the front of the shirt has become one of the true symbols of South Carolina history and heritage. The back, drawn by famed graphic designer Ralph Sutton shows the Silver Dew Winery and former Lighthouse structure CIRCA 1883 in all its hand ladened brick glory.

The T-Shirts are now offered at Twenty Dollars ($20.00) plus Three (3) Dollars handling and shipping. They are made from the highest quality T-Shirt manufactures I could find "Authentic Pigment". One Hundred (100) percent cotton has been pre-washed to give a true South Carolina LowCountry Historic affect. I have chosen colors that are nautical in design and will fade beautifully over time. All shirts are available in "Large" and "Extra Large" and pinkish red is also available in Medium. Colors available are Green, Dark Blue, Light Blue and a Pinkish Red.

Shirts will be shipped by US mail upon receipt of cash, check or money order made out to Silver Dew Winery, Inc. and sent to

Joe Yocius....PO Box 38, Daufuskie Island, SC 29915

or you can e-mail me your address, I will ship that day and you can remit payment in a timely fashion.             Joe@LowCountryJoe.com

I am confident that your Silver Dew Winery T shirt will be one of your favorites that you will proudly wear time and time again.

Thanks in advance for your order and......See ya on the high tide.

Silver Dew Winery is a licensed US Trademark

The "Golf Channel" Tees it up with LowCountry Joe and "Spirits"

Years ago as a very young man, Tiger Woods and his foursome stepped up to the back T-Box of Bloody Point's sixth hole and gave the little white ball a whack. It is ironic that last night golf students of Hank Haney, Tiger Wood's current coach, stood on that same T-Box and also gave it a whack with probably the same amount of success as Tiger....Hooks, big time fades and yes, "tops". You see...the T-Box seems to be haunted with some sort of spiritual being and straight shots are not what the spirit  has in mind. Some say its Papy, Bloody Point Lighthouse's owner in the 30's and 40's and 50's making the ball go "hither and nither". Some say he never forgave the folks that bought his beloved home, turned it into a Pro Shop and erected aT-Box in what formally was his front yard. I was told that "belief"  when I bought the Lighthouse and yes...the back T-Box in question. Needless to say I was a naysayer, until late one afternoon after playing a round of golf on Bloody Point I sat my clubs in the corner of the den. Somehow the bag fell over, my seven iron flew out into the air and slammed into the wall. Someone or some thing  was trying to tell me something and I quickly turned into  a "believer".

It is with this scenario in mind that I can relate why students of Tiger Woods coach were T' ing it up with me last night on the back T-Box as the setting sun cast long ominous shadows over the front nine. I was approached a few months ago by a producer from the Golf Channel and asked if I would help with filming of a special show featuring students from the prestigious Hank Haney International Junior Golf Academy. Eight segments would be produced and they wanted one to feature the kids just having "fun" in a spooky kind of way.  The "sinister golf T immediately came to mind" and after considerable planning the filming was done.

The show does not stop at the T-Box , however, and as darkness falls over Bloody Point with only a finger nail moon providing illumination  we made our  way to Bloody Point's cemetery. With respect for the "passed" foremost in my mind I tell the story of Blood Point's historical bloody past and how many an Indian and Islander alike lost their lives in violent turmoil.  Needless to say it was a "chilling experience" for me, as the kids huddled together and the assembled cadre of camera men and sound specialists so professionally captured the moment. 

I will have to wait till this Fall to turn on the Golf Channel and witness for myself what film technology has captured. But even if "Spirits" somehow made images on the film disappear, I will always have implanted in my mind the "special experience" of that night. For you see, these young men and women depicted in the filming were not just some of the best "players" in the world attempting to hit a little white ball off an ill fated T-Box.  They were good,  well mannered educated kids just having fun, the way it should be and I was blessed to be a very small part of their life.

See Ya on the "High Tide".

No "Spotted Bananas" at The Silver Dew Winery

When I first got into the Lowcountry real estate business over twenty three (23) years ago, I read an article in a local magazine written by the most successful Hilton Head Realtor at the time. It was named "Spotted Bananas" and compared outdated real estate information to the spots appearing on bananas quickly after they arrived home. The distasteful thought of eating a rotting banana was well compared to reading and  "depending on" real estate information that was outdated even by only a few days. With this observance in mind, I created the "Fresh Daily" concept a few years ago. This concept has been incorporated into my WEB Site and Blog and I have been amazed by the positive response from literally around the world.

At my newest office located in the Historic Silver Dew Winery on Daufuskie the "Fresh Daily" concept is shall we say "Fresh". Where Papy Burn, the first licensed vintner of wine in South Carolina once made wine from anything that looked like it was about to turn rotten, Fresh Daily real estate information prevails. I go out of my way with considerable time and expense to provide not only fresh daily statistics but have updated available detailed location plans and prices for property all over the Island for you as well. With this information in hand you can confidently go about your business of finding the best available opportunity for you.

One of my favorite quotes of all time is "If you don't plan the hunt, you are just walking in the woods". Please visit me on line or at my Hilton Head/Daufuskie offices and plan your hunt with the GPS of real estate "LowCountry Joe's Fresh Daily". I guarantee you....you will not get lost.

See Ya on the high tide.....

LowCountry Joe 

Lobsters, May Poles, Loggerheads and Weddings

What do May Poles, Lobsters, Loggerhead Turtles and Weddings have in common?......Not much....But as we turn our calendars to May, interesting and fun things begin to happen that brings them into the forefront of folks lives from the Carolina LowCountry to Prince Edward Island in the Canadian Maritimes.

There is something about our only three lettered month  that is very special. Mother Nature has made it through April, the transition month of good and questionable  weather existing in any given day to guaranteed days of sunlight and warmth spiced with low humidity. In the LowCountry,  today marks the day years ago when I first witnessed my first  May Pole dance by the children at the Daufuskie Island elementary School. The lovely school marm assembled the children around the traditional pole dressed out with brightly colored ribbons.  As the interweaving commenced  kids and adults alike laughed, giggled and danced alike under clear Carolina blue skies. Of all the fun things I have ever experienced in my twenty three years here, the May Pole dance "takes the proverbial cake". 

On our shorelines other incredibly things are beginning to happen. Loggerhead turtles are making their way to our sandy beaches and laying their eggs like they have done for centuries. We are reminded to keep our dogs off the beach, turn our lights off at night and give these creatures a wide berth. I have been blessed to experience this continuation of a species with my Bride and am pleased to share my feelings in the pontification that follows. 

Up North on my beloved second Island home of Prince Edward Island in the Canadian Maritimes May 1'st takes on a very different meaning. It signals the time when the ice has melted and lobster men like my dear Friend Perry Gottel head for the fishing grounds like they have done for generations. Picturesque lobster boats are loaded to the hilt with hand made wooden traps and the hard and sometimes dangerous work begins. On the Eastern shore Mother Nature still hasn't got "things" settled down "on the water" even though Lucy Maud Montgomery's Island made famous by her portrayal of Anne of Green Gables is friendly in spirit and bursts alive with welcoming "eye candy" colors of green.

And last, but defiantly not least, May is traditionally a great month for love and, yes, to get married, tie the proverbial knot, if you will. Couples throughout the US and Canada will look into each others eyes and exchange vows.  That's what I did many, many moons ago when my lovely Bride Mary walked down a VERY long isle at an Erie, PA cathedral and said "I DO". Of all the pleasing May experiences I have had, surely that was the "best".

Have a great May and See Ya on the High Tide........

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The sun has just dropped behind the tall standing Carolina lob-lolly pines and the beach seems to take on a new mystical form. But as if Mother Nature wanted to remind us of her presence, streams of brilliant red and yellow light pierce through the boughs and envelope the early evening sky. Not to be outdone, the comforting slow moving velvety waves reach up and grab the sky’s essence, taking the last of the days light and transforming its surface into a glistening multi-colored sea.

Hand-in-hand, my bride Mary and I walk on the salt water’s fringe and take in the joys of God’s wonderful blessing. It’s one of those times when silence is really golden… when the soothing sound of the waves seem almost sensual and speaking would be like breaking a Monk’s silence. But out to the West, there are other humans that are yet to be blessed and slowly the sky turns darker and the moon takes over as the major source of light.

We are about to end our early evening’s journey when farther up the beach I notice a very large form emerging from the sea. Squinting hard to squeeze out the last bit of light, I try to make out this eerie presence but realize that "getting up close" is the only option. Silence is broken, I quietly mumble "what is that" and Mary steps up the pace and pulls me toward the vision. Now at this point you must understand this is the same Mary that has, all by her lonesome, subsidized Steven King’s existence and I am the one that still looks under the bed. So with manly pride I trudge ahead, knowing in my heart "flight" still might be our best bet. As we make our approach the dark form starts to take shape…the rusty brown carapace turns into a shell and appendages turn into flippers. Mary’s inquisitiveness and my courage have given us the unique opportunity to experience one of the ocean’s oldest and largest creatures…the loggerhead sea turtle. More importantly, however, we are about to witness the continuance of a species, the laying of eggs, the beginning of life.

As the moon brightens, this wandering giant named for its shell’s bark-like shields, patiently and ever so slowly makes her way landward. This creature, whose featherweight air-filled bones and large flippers enables her to effortlessly navigate at speeds up to twenty-five miles an hour at sea, now moves slower than a snail. Nothing will stop her, however, and she…like her predecessors over one hundred seventy-five million years ago…finds that special birthing spot in the sand. We watch in awe as flippers work in unison to shape the trench, as moonlight reflects off tired teary eyes…as ping-pong ball shaped eggs are deposited, as she gently covers them and makes her way back to sea.

A great horned owl hoots in the distance as we make our way from the beach and up the sandy lane. Once again silence envelopes us and I clasp Mary’s hand tightly. The moon rises higher, I am filled with a special "calm" and life continues on this very special Island we call Daufuskie.