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"Papy's Posies"

Light gray clouds blanket the Carolina Lowcountry and prospects for sun in the February days to come seem dim. I find myself alone in the Lighthouse....Mary said she had "Too Much Joe" and hopped the 8:15 ferry to the mainland.  A thoughtful blown kiss was accepted  as she made her departure by golf cart and disappeared up the oak canopied road like a rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.  Geeze....I miss her already.

Its not often I get to spend a day at the old Bloody Point Light alone. Normally I too would be on the mainland doing my thing, whiling away the day in my makeshift office. With the economy the way it is, that has all changed and now the historic  Silver Dew Winery is where I go,  all set up with new-fangled computers with things sticking out of them that let my words travel the Fuskie winds into the sky.

Now if I was one of those guys that get depressed easily, this surely would be the day. No Mary, no tourists stopping by to say hello and when you get right down to it...no people period..just the bald headed eagles soaring high above.  Actually its a typical early February for any given year but the overshadowing of  bankrupt resort proceedings plies away at my psychie.   And....the normally over seeded green fairways and greens of the Bloody Point golf course don't help much,  completing the puzzle with "mental  brownness" that psychiatrists would portray as perpetual doom as gloom.

But do not fear, my inner self says, remember the words of Mary..."You Make your own reality". "Buck up...."Life is in the living....in the tissue of every hour of every day"....and then there is the old Scottish proverb...."Live today and forget tomorrow....for you are a long time dead". Ok Ok....enough already inner self, I get the picture. Lets get my butt in gear.... lets make some real "funky ass" reality.

Now the best way I know of to make positive reality is to take a long  walk. So off I go, down to the beach, power walkin' big time....gettin' those endorphins movin'....struttin my stuff....The world is my oyster, and even though the clouds turn the shimmering waves grey....they look blue to me. And now I'm talkin' my trash....yes sir re: Bob...sayin' good morning to the pelicans....waving with delight to a passing Coast Guard helicopter....chasing frenzied shore birds, and even stopping and talking to my favorite tree...."Well trees are alive like dogs, aren't they....and you talk to your dog".....

A steady gait, and well trained legs, push me onward and a check of my sub mariner shows fifty minutes has somehow flown by.  The lighthouse steps welcomes me for some "porch sittin", a flock of red winged blackbirds chatter and cheet as if to welcome my arrival and bionic eyes  are enticed by a little patch of green in an otherwise bleak lawn.

A big smile comes over my face and a feeling of true well being envelops my inner soul. That patch of green is Papy's  doing!!!!!  Missed this morning because my eyes were "fixed" on my Brides departure, snow drop flowers, planted by a former Lighthouse Keeper "Papy"  in the early fifties have drivin' their little heads through the sandy earth overnight and will soon grace me with their blooms. Their snow white beauty have welcomed my Bride and I to Spring for ten (10) years and 2010 will be no exception. Soon the lawn will be covered with their glory, my pecan tree will come alive and a new "freshness" will permeate the Carolina Lowcountry. A spirit of rebirth will grace all Daufuskie humans and a spirit of well being will help embrace positive reality. Endless days of sunlight will soon be the norm and my Bride Mary will soon be back from the mainland. Life is Good.

Raccoon and Eggs

What do raccoon and eggs have enough in common to headline my latest Lowcountry pontification you might ask.....Well....putting all political and culinary correctness aside "They Taste Damn Good Together"!

 EEEEHHHGADDS!!!!! some of my faithful literary followers might proclaim....we know times are tough these days  but substituting Jimmy Dean's pork sausage  with raccoon at the breakfast table..."Poor Mary"....old LCJoe has finally lost it. Well "loosing it" in whatever form one might consider at the robust age of almost sixty six (66) is all together possible. But believe me, when it comes to consuming the "masked bandit" I have complete awareness and control of all on my senses.

May I regress....Many a fond moment were spent many moons ago at my Aunt Nellie's dinner table on the family farm and believe me, I never once left hungry. We raised the finest of black angus steers, prime corn fed hogs and the healthiest of true free range chickens. I know that its hard to believe that eating juicy t-bone steaks each day gets old, but it does,  so Aunt Nellie, true to form, would always "surprise us" with a fine delicacy. A lot of these last minute treats were passionately cooked cow and pig "parts" the Travel  Channel's  "Anthony Bourdain/No Reservations" would savor. But the real treat came in the form of a masked bandit that made the tragic mistake of noisily overturning my Aunt's garbage pail at 3 AM. She  had a great "eye" coupled for a fondness for deep sleep and the sound of a twelve gauge shotgun reverberating over the serenely quiet Pennsylvania rolling meadows announced to all that raccoon was on tomorrow's menu.  

As I now fast forward....I am spending a fine Summer afternoon "porch sittin" at the Silver Dew Winery with my dear "local" friend Freddie when the subject of consuming Daufuskie critters came up. We chatted about how our relatives prepared squirrel to die for and excitedly talked over each other about how we were brought up on and developed a fine taste for raccoon. The conversation spread from fur to feather with a deep appreciation of each others unlikely common culinary delights. It was enough to break out my trusty twelve gage and head for the woods.  "True hunters", however,  know that a long hard freeze is always mandatory and our fantasizing taste buds would have to wait.

Months passed and "da 2010 freeze it did come". The arctic blast came with a vengeance wiping out pesky bugs of all sorts, completely freezing over my never frozen  1/3 acre pond for days on end , thrilling Palmetto Electric to distraction  and bringing my parka clad Friend Freddie to my door.  Invited in, he grinned from ear to ear and from a brown paper bag presented a package securely wrapped in sturdy tin foil. The masked bandit from my childhood had arrived and was once again about to be savored and consumed.

So there you have it and "NO" my Bride Mary did not partake of or encourage my fine feast. But when she did ask me what the masked bandit tasted like I smiled and blurted  RACCOON....No...Not Chicken.

History of Bloody Point Lighthouse

Mary, and I have always been in love with Lighthouses. It all started when many years ago, by pure chance, we ended up staying overnight at California’s Pigeon Point Lighthouse. Even though our backs ached from a combination of old cots and sleeping bags, we felt privileged to be able to experience and explore that wonderful beacon. We never in our wildest dreams believed that some day we would sleep in our own beds….in our own Lighthouse.

So, this is a History of the Bloody Point Lighthouse located on the Southern end of Daufuskie Island, South Carolina. I call it "The Forgotten Lighthouse" because as of this writing you will struggle to find it in any Lighthouse books. But, the fact that it has been forgotten, is the reason Mary and I have been able to buy it in the first place.

Let’s start with recent History, the series of events that played themselves out, and led to that fateful day when a fellow Realtor asked "Do you want to buy a Lighthouse?". Then I will go back in time when the first Keeper, John Michael Doyle, first set foot on Daufuskie.

Mary and I moved to Hilton Head Island fifteen years ago to escape the snowy, Northwestern, Pennsylvania Winters. Our home was a wonderful hand hewn log cabin overlooking a beautiful Pennsylvania Fishing Commission lake called Tamarack. When we moved to Hilton Head Island we purchased a traditional home complete with walls covered with drywall. Well, quite frankly, once you experience the warmth and coziness of a log home you are never quite the same. The drywall and the house had to go and we finally settled on building a post and beam home on our newly acquired lot on Daufuskie Island’s Haig Point Plantation.

We met with an architect from New Hampshire and selected a few plans. There was one feature, however, I wanted him to include, and that was a replica of the fireplace and mantle in the Bloody Point Lighthouse. The Lighthouse at the time was being used as a golf pro shop.

Upon arrival our young friend was instantly fascinated with the structure and immediately pointed out we were looking at ‘classic" post and beam construction. He, like most visitors, had expected something different… he had expected a tall structure that "looked" like a Lighthouse. What he found was a traditional Low Country style building looking more like a cottage. I explained the one feature, however, that was unique… the single large dormer window on the roof. That is where the "kerosene light" was lit and maintained by the Keeper.

We peered through the old wavy glass panes, made a few sketches and commented about what a wonderful home it could have been. Months later, I would call his office and explain I had purchased the old mantle and, oh by the way, we purchased the Lighthouse to go along with it!

I had known a permanent golf pro shop was being constructed for Bloody Point, but I never believed the developers and owners would ever sell that beautiful historic structure. I was certain they had other plans for what had become and was "the symbol of Bloody Point". Boy was I surprised to later find out it was under contract and a group of investors were planning to convert it into a bed and breakfast. I was even more surprised when I found out later the investor "deal" had fell through and a young couple now had it under contract. Wow…that could have been me if only I would have let the "powers to be" know my interest! So I did!!!!! If this deal ever falls through Please, yes Pretty Please, let me know. Then came that fateful day, the phone rang…..and I was asked the most wonderful question since "Do you take this Woman?…..…"Do you want to buy a Lighthouse?!!!!

With pen in shaky hand, Mary and I signed the papers that would forever after make us a part of Daufuskie Island History. Our home on Hilton Head sold quickly and I immediately got down to the task of restoration. I was lucky in this regard because the owners prior to the property being used as a golf pro shop had already done extensive renovations. Most importantly the wiring and plumbing was up to standard . The first task at hand was to rip up the carpeting that had been laid to protect the heart of pine floors from golf spikes. Upon inspection I found that the carpeting had been glued to the floors. Needless to say, that meant hiring a professional floor finisher and two weeks of constant sanding. The result was superb, however, as the old pine sprung back to life. A healthy coat of wax, not polyurethane, was applied and I was off to the next task, cleaning.

Consider the fact that a bunch of heavy smoking golf pros literally lived in the lighthouse for twelve years and you will understand the task at hand. Thousands of golfers had also "trooped" through the place and the cleaning and maintenance had been obviously sub par. Also consider that the entire interior, ceilings and walls, are pine bead board, I literally hand washed and wiped every square inch, not once, but three times. Most of the walls were left in their natural state by the previous owners and only the upstairs bedrooms and "light room" needed to be painted.

Then came that wonderful day after months of work when I realized I was done, at least with the interior. The exterior power washing, painting and wood rot would have to wait. It was time to show off my work to Mary…I purposely had keep her out of that mess….smart right….and the big day had arrived. Needless to say, I was a "smashing hit" that day and I will never forget the way she "beamed" as I gave her the grand tour. Our furniture arrived by barge a few weeks later and there we were, living in a lighthouse.

We all know that the main function of any Lighthouse is to direct mariners and save lives, but why build one at Bloody Point. Even today, as I stand on the beach looking toward Tybee Island, the reason is very obvious. Huge container ships from all over the world constantly enter the Savannah River channel on their way to the Savannah Port. The port was even more important back in the 1700’s when Savannah was growing by leaps and bounds. Imports and exports arriving by the river were essential for the city to survive and moving sand bars and shoals made the passage treacherous. For that reason, a Lighthouse was located on Tybee as early as 1736. As ships entered the river they would navigate by using Tybee on their left, or port side. In 1881 the Lighthouse Department realized a need for lights on the right or starboard side to further ensure their safety. Two Range Lights, as they were called, would be constructed Captains would align the front and back range light to give them their exact position. Mr. James C. LaCoste from Sullivan’s Island South Carolina was given the contract to build the front light. Mr. John Michael Doyle with the Cooper Manufacturing Company, Mt. Vernon Ohio, would build the back light (even then folks from Ohio were coming South).

By April of 1883 construction was completed. The front light, painted bright white with lead trim, stood proud and was ready for duty. As I mentioned earlier, this Lighthouse looked more like a keeper’s cottage, than a traditional tall standing Lighthouse like Tybee. Never the less, the red kerosene light that shone from the single large upstairs dormer window worked to perfection. The back light, located 4350 ft. inland was also unusual for a Lighthouse. It seems Congress had appropriated insufficient funds for a "proper" Lighthouse (imagine that) and erected a triangular white metal tower, like our cell towers of today. The source of light was a locomotive head-light in the form of a powerful parabolic reflector (red beam with a range of 12 miles). The light was kept in the "lamp room" an 8 by 10 ft. brick building where it was cleaned, maintained and stored during the day. At night the Keeper would run the light up on rails to a height of 81 feet. The entire system worked perfectly, all that was needed was a Lighthouse Keeper.

Here is where John Michael Doyle steps in again. It seems this Ohio native liked the Lowcountry so much he applied and was awarded the position of Keeper. Mr. Doyle would serve for seven years and would see an increase in pay from $620.00 to a whopping $660.00 per year. During his tenure he would oversee a 12 by 20 ft kitchen "Mary’s kitchen today" being built off the Southwest corner of the house. He would also build a boathouse.

In August of 1890 Robert A. Sisson, a Canadian, became the second Lighthouse Keeper. Obviously he also wanted to live in a warm climate and he found just that in August’s hot sultry days. He served until May if 1908 when he was replaced by his son, Charles Leslie Sisson. Charles was sent to Fernadina Beach in Florida on August of 1910 and his Dad returned to Bloody Point to resume his Light Keeper’s duties.

Augustus Sisson was kept quite busy during his tenure. Besides the obvious tasks of maintaining both range lights he would supervise the moving of the front range light (December 1899) to a location inland next to the back range light. Significant erosion obviously isn’t a recent phenonoma and the only way to save the wood structure was to move it. At that point the front range Lighthouse would be utilized as the Keepers cottage and a metal tower recycled from the Venus Light Station in South Carolina would be erected. This tower could be moved fairly easily and away from the encroaching waves. On top of that, he lived through the great 1893 hurricane that took his kitchen, now Mary’s, and rolled it from its foundations. Damage was significant and many of his families personal items were lost.

The next Keeper (1910) was Gustaf Ohman. He obviously didn’t like cold weather either and originally arrived in Charleston on a sailing schooner from Sweden. To help him with his tasks he hired John A. Robertson, Jr. as his assistant Keeper. Three years later Robertson would be replaced by Arthur Ashley Burn, Jr. (now know as Papy).

In 1922 the Government decided there was no further need for the Bloody Point Light Range, the lights were extinguished and the back metal tower was dismantled. A Mr. Francis M. Keenan purchased the Lighthouse and a few years later sold it back to the former Keeper Gustaf Ohlman. A few years after that, the last assistant Keeper Arthur A. (Papy) Burn purchased the Lighthouse for his residence.

There is one thing, however, that Papy is really remembered for and that is the Silver Dew Winery. Papy loved making wine and made it out of scuppernong grapes, elderberries, pears or whatever he could find. He converted the Lamp House, the brick building that had housed the rear range light, into the Winery and actually made it under license in 1953. He stored the wine in the oil house, adjacent the Lamp House, on the original racks, that until then had held kerosene. Markings on the wall still show how he aged the wine. Papy never drank the wine but only tasted it and gave it to his friends. In his honor, I am currently in the process of making pear wine from trees he planted in the Lighthouse yard. It is important to note here that most Islanders and visitors, until now, have known the Lamp house as the Winery. They never knew about its historic past and that is the only known Lamp House to exist in the United States.

Papy sold the Lighthouse in June of 1966 and left the Island due to poor health. The last Bloody Point Lighthouse Keeper died on January 20, 1968. His body was returned to Daufuskie, the Island he loved so much.

Simon Kehoe and his Sister Mary purchased the Lighthouse from Papy and used it primarily as a second home. In 1981 it was sold to a Mr. Jim Batey. In April of 1983 it was sold to Mr. James P. Black. Both Mr. Batey and Black made extensive renovations. In October 1988 title passed to Beach Lagoon Associates. Mary and I signed our purchase contract February 1999 and made the big move in June of 1999.

So there you have it, a brief history of the "Forgotten Lighthouse" at Bloody Point. From all indications the former Keepers and their families that have passed truly loved this place. They found this special Lighthouse on the mystical Island of Daufuskie was more than a place to work…it was a place for them to live, to raise their families. It was also a place for them to dream. So that’s what I do in the total still of the night, standing alone in the Lamp Room listening to the waves crash on the Bloody Point shore. I dream of the future… but I just can’t help to embrace the past…try to smell the kerosene…and to let the Keepers of the past know I will love and protect the old Lighthouse in their memory until my dying day.

Crossing The Sweet Waters Of Calibogue Sound

It's 7:15 AM .....Waves crash over the bow of the Palmetto Peddler and Captain Richard is kind enough to pour me a hot fresh paper cup of boat coffee. My Bride, securely situated in the passenger lounge breaks out her newest  Dean Koontz novel and I make my way to the open upper deck. The early December air feels unusually fresh and brisk as I make my way aft.  Stiff winds out of the North forecast tonight's Nor-Easter and I gaze over the choppy waters. Taking in the awe inspiring crisp beauty that the Sea Gods and Mother Nature have offered without giving nothing in return seems sacrilegious, so I look to the heavens for inspiration. Opening my arms and extending my hands to the crystal clear blue sky, I reach out from my spiritual  inner self and offer my thanks for giving me this opportunity to be truly blessed. Yes, blessed at the opportunity to begin another day over the sweet waters of Calibogue Sound.

Now my plans were to pontificate further about our somewhat precarious docking at Salty Fare Marina and my enlightening conversation with a Canadian couple over a McDonald's "senior coffee". But something deep inside seems to entice me to end this oratory and disregard my Acer's blinking light edging my anxious fingers on. Strange as it seems,  the new age music streaming from overhead speakers full of light flute melodies draw me back to Calibogue Sound,  a body of water I have crossed hundreds of times before. A body of water the Yemassee Indian tribe called "sweet water". A body of water revered and worshiped by shamans.  A body of water that inspired Pat Conroy in his epic novel "The Water is Wide". A body of water that soon will show its ornery side,  tossing and churning in gale force winds. A body of water that each day offers up to all that cross the opportunity to begin to understand the true meaning of life. A body of water that seems to say "gaze over my sweet waters, let my spiritual energy enter your soul, let me help you understand".

Wreaths, Copperheads and Christmas

It’s almost Christmas in the Carolina Lowcountry and in keeping with the times I find myself walking the woods and gathering pine branches and cones for the wreath that will hang proudly on the Historic Silver Dew Winery. This pilgrimage  comes from my annual  tradition of  walking the woods on the hillside above our Pennsylvania log cabin, scraping away snow searching for long green ground ferns that made splendid Christmas garland.

Now up North the only sound to be heard was the crunching of the snow pack and the chirping of cute little nervous chickadees. And, except for evading the occasional limb made weak by layers of ice and falling on ones head,  this was a venture that was safe for “the person” and warm to “the soul”.   But down South, walking in the midst of tall standing  lob-lolly pines takes on a whole new meaning. On warmer than normal days like we have had recently,  all eyes are to the ground watching with careful eye for the beautiful colored Carolina copperhead that blends so magnificently with the gold and brown carpet of pine straw. Normally he/she would be taking a winters nap under an old pine log but with temps nearing eighty (80) this cold blooded creature finds solace in the warm Carolina sunshine.  I too, find that solace and at times stop my foraging and simply listen to the rhythmic sound of pine bough brushing against pine bough. Underneath that green canopy,  palm fronds, not to be outdone join the Southern symphony  along with sound of the oceans waves gently engulfing the sandy Daufuskie shore. It’s my very own “nature sounds” CD and  truly makes one realize how wonderful it is be alive.

 

With pine boughs to spare I load up my golf cart and traverse the bumpy root laden path that leads me from my forest enclave and to my Bloody Point home. Yellow fritterly butterflies awakened by nature’s abnormal  turn of events flit about in graceful escort and I feel engulfed with “white light” and peace. Soon the limbs so graciously given up by its parent trees will adorn and welcome all those that choose to enter the Winery’s  hand crafted old wood doors. Soon it will be Christmas in the Lowcountry.

See ya on the high tide….

LowCountry Joe

Daufuskie Island's Historic Silver Dew Winery Receives Wine License

Noted author Pat Conroy wrote in his novel "The Water is Wide" ...."The first time I walked the road I was shocked to find two odd-looking structures in the curve of the road. There was a sign on one of the buildings that read SILVER DEW WINERY 1953". Other than a notation about swimming at Bloody Point's beach there was literally no other reference to the isolated Island of Daufuskie where the story unfolded and he called Yamacraw.  

When I purchased this National Register of Historic Places structure and South Carolina Treasure a number of years ago  a concerted effort was made to restore its rotting timbers and announce to the world that this picturesque solid brick tinned roof building was indeed a Winery back in 1953. The story simply needed to be told.

Papy Burn, Lighthouse Keeper at the Bloody Point Light remodeled his favorite hideaway, once a Lighthouse structure itself built in 1883. He made wine from all sorts of local "fix-ins",  and succeeded through hard work and sheer determination to have the Winery licensed under South Carolina Law. Along with detailed ledger notes on costs and wine recipes Papy made proud reference to that special day Nov. 23, 1953 when he received his license after months and months  of government red tape". Papy had succeeded in licensing the very first Winery in South Carolina.

I have always held that old ledger page dear to my heart and was determined to someday bring the Silver Dew Winery back to the prominence he once envisioned. You see, Papy never succeeded financially in the wine business and was known to simply provide a "taste" and give his wine away to friends that passed by. It was with that thought that today, December 16, 2008 I am pleased and proud to announce that Papy's Winery is once again Licensed under South Carolina law to provide "off premise consumption"  of wine. The process was costly, tenuous and at times arduous but the fine folks at the Department of Revenue and South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, (SLED) made up for Papy's tenuous efforts years past and courteously and professionally guided me through the long process of making South Carolina History. Once again folks making that curve in the road would be able to purchase a bottle  of wine, once again they could revel in the story of Papy Burn, the proud Lighthouse Keeper and Vintner.

Contacts are now being made to work with numerous wholesalers of wine in South Carolina to offer some of the finest wines available in the world. Silver Dew, a commemorative wine, which is actually bottled for me in California, will be offered like it has been for years. Scuppernong wines, common to the Carolinas, will also be available for the local taste/feel.  I will also be offering case lot discounts of your favorites and planning some fun events to avail you with all that will be available in the near future.

I look forward to meeting one and all as you make your way to Bloody Point,  that curve in the road noted by Pat Conroy and the Silver Dew Winery. I look forward to providing a friendly greeting like Papy did in the old days and offering wines that I am sure he would have been proud of. I look forward to providing folks that relish a true sense of History the opportunity  to raise a glass and "Give a Toast to Papy".

LowCountry Joe

Fall arrives in the South Carolina Lowcountry

Up North the snow shovels are out and sensual visions of smelling burning leaves on a cool Fall day are long past. But down here in the Carolina Lowcountry its the first week of December and we are now being blessed by a fine Lady, Mother Nature, with all that stands dear to me on an Autumn day.

My Bride and I missed out this year on leaf peeping on our special "other Island" Prince Edward way up in the Canadian Maritimes. Just by coincidence, however, we made up for it on a recent short jaunt to the North Georgia foothills. The valleys were ablaze with color....color the locals say they have not seen in years. We had hit it just right. Clear mountain waters forming the Chattahoochee River flowed passed our cozy cottage's quaint porch and leaves, brightly colored and perky rode the gently flowing waters like miniature boats  in a fine parade. I couldn't resist grabbing Mary's hand, kicking through piles of leaves on the adjoining narrow dirt road and fondly remembering  days of old in the Northwest Pennsylvania countryside.

Its been almost a month since that fine adventure and quite frankly I thought my fascination with brightly colored creations from God was long gone. But that lady with a name called Nature had different plans for me and the Lowcountry alike. Well below average temperatures,  an abundance of rain bringing us to normal for the year combined to give all that would care to see a true unique visual leaf spectacle indeed.

Now I am not here to tell you that the patchworks of red, orange and gold  compare to "leaf time" up North. I have always felt sorry for Southern folks that have never been "awed" by that form of absolute spellbinding Autumn beauty. But when one accents those muted multi-colored  beauties with a multitude of  green palmetto frauns and  Spanish Moss laden live oaks sporting their deep glossed never changing green leaves with a background of gold from the marshes and blue from the ocean,  one realizes that folks in the South have been truly blessed by another form of Mother Natures visual miracles.

We had an unusually heavy frost last night and the forecast calls for some brisk winds and light rain. Soon all that will be left will be painted memories of the heavily forested Lowcountry forests. So its time to quit work and go home early. I plan to  grab Mary's hand, tell her dinner can wait,  and take a long walk on Daufuskie Island's tree canopied dirt roads. Once again we will smell the special fragrance that is Fall, trudge through  and kick leaves like we did back in Pennsylvania while giving thanks to God and Mother Nature for this special moment in time.  I will then hold these memories dear till next year when Fall returns to Pennsylvania, Prince Edward Island and my  South Carolina home.

 

Daufuskie Fire

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone in the Carolina Lowcountry. Turkey breast sandwiches complete with white gummy bread smothered in real mayonnaise are the order of the day and long walks on isolated beaches once inhabited by visiting family members awaken and nourish the soul.  It's on these walks when one has time to reflect on another passing holiday ......gone seemingly with the blink of an eye.

My Bride and I spent this one, like most, together in the cozy confines of the Historic Bloody Point Lighthouse.  Mary's turkey was succulent, the cranberry sauce perfect and the dressing just right. But unlike years past I simply wasn't as hungry as normal. Now don't tell Mary, but I had been a "bad boy" just a few hours earlier,  and its all because of a Daufuskie fire.

Now this fire wasn't any old fire and no-one disturbed our three (3) man fire department from an early afternoon nap.....it was my fire and mine alone. Earlier that morning I decided that after one hundred and fifteen (115) years without a fire pit the old Silver Dew Winery deserved one. I knew that Lighthouse Keeper Papy Burn had a wood stove inside the Winery evidenced by a round gaping hole in the thick wall but a fire pit had never graced its presence. But that would change....and change it did. Bricks from the old Haig Point Mansion given to me by Frank Burn, Papy's Son, were rescued from their "hidings" under an Historic live oak tree and Walahhhh....a fine fire pit.....an upstanding fire pit.....a grand fire pit...... that Papy would have been proud of graced the grounds of the picturesque brick structure.

So now if ya got a fire pit you need wood for the fire. Well it just so happens one of Papy's fine pear trees that he alone planted met its demise this Summer and crashed into the side of the Lighthouse. I didn't have the heart to dispose if it in a normal way simply to decay in a Daufuskie ditch, so I set it aside. But now was its time to re-emerge with dignity. So with saw in hand select branches and limbs were trimmed and soon a crackling fire never seen before graced the Winery....What I felt quite strange,  is that its smoke mysteriously rode the light winds and floated South towards the Lighthouse even though the prevailing winds were out of the West.

OK....here comes the part where Mary wonders why I didn't have that normal second helping of my favorite dressing. Well it has to do with the idea that ...if ya got  a fire one should cook something on a fire....sounds logical right, but considering the fact that the nearest grocery store is accessible only by ferry I opted to improvise....to do what the Indians would have done... hunt up a passel of clams and oysters on the Bloody Point beach and marsh. With bushel basket in hand and after immersing myself in saltwater the ocean gratefully gave up its bounty. It was as if the Coosawhatchie Indians were saying "its your turn Joe" and soon these fine crustaceans were steaming over an old cast iron stove door that seemed perfect for the purpose.  Pat Conroy once  quoted now passed Local Jake Washington  in a recent book that "eating a Daufuskie oyster was like tasting the tide". Was he ever right.

So the next time you are on the Island please stop by and check out my 'Daufuskie Fire". You can bring some hot dogs if you like or maybe some marshmallows for "the kid in us". You will go home smelling like smoke and probably not yearning for dinner but I promise to fulfill you with a welcoming smile, pleasant conversation and a passing farewell.

See ya on the high tide....LCJoe

Health Department closes Daufuskie Oyster Beds

I know it is hard to believe but the headline above is exactly what happened in the late Fall of 1959. A once flourishing business built by the Maggioni family and hiring thousands of Daufuskie residents was history. Raw sewage dumped into the Savannah River along with waste from Savannah's flourishing companies flowed by Daufuskie's Cooper River and Mongin Creek and choked the life out of quality oysters that were renowned world wide. Today these waters are again pristine and I wait patiently each year for months ending in an R to harvest a few of the tasty morsels.

I pontificate about Daufuskie's past history as a result of a front page article and picture in last weeks Island Packet. It shows two bike riders in some city in China....or should I say the photographer was attempting to show two bike riders. You see, there was a profound brown haze surrounded them accentuated by an ugly brownish yellow sky. It kind of reminded me of  a Sci Fi movie but this was for real. The U.N. Environment Program just released a report called "Atmospheric Brown Clouds" which are a mile thick that cover thirteen cities from the Arabian Peninsula to the Yellow Sea and drift as far East as California. This report made me feel very lucky to live on an Island like Daufuskie where the air is pure and the water from deep well aquifers is fresh.

But one does not have to travel far from our beautiful Lowcountry to experience serious air pollution. A trip to the North Carolina Mountains in Summer will reveal thousands of trees killed by acid rain. And recent reports show Asheville Tennessee, Knoxville and Atlanta as extremely high with airborne particulates. And to my dismay that same recent report cites my hometown of Pittsburgh as being the most highly polluted in the USA with Los Angeles winning the second spot.

Now the clean air and water we are blessed with does not come by accident. Some one or some agency not long ago fought hard to keep a steel mill from being erected at what is now Colleton River Plantation just over the bridge from Hilton Head. A short trip north to the historic coastal town of Georgetown will show that they definitely were not that lucky. The acrid smell of burning steel permeates the air and a fine dust attaches itself to sailboats in the picturesque marina.

I usually have a moral to my writings but today is different. I guess I am just attempting to pass on to folks out there that ...there are still places on God's good earth that are sweet and pure. I am just trying to pass these written words to folks that are searching for places like Daufuskie Island and still do not know it exists. I am attempting to reach out to folks that won't complain about a boat ride to get groceries and revel being surrounded by magnificent nature at every turn. I am attempting to reach out to people that enjoy a clear glass of water fresh from a well and dine on oysters, shrimp, crabs, flounder and sea trout just caught at the county dock. I am attempting to reach out to folks that are now searching for a refreshing new life, where walks on pristine beaches are the norm and where dreams still come true.

See ya on the high tide.

LowCountry Joe 

 

Daufuskie Crime

Now I knew that headline would capture a lot of attention!!!!! But in these days when the news is full of very bad people doing very terrible things Daufuskie Island is blessed to be virtually crime free. Now I ain't sayin' someone wont take your golf cart by mistake after a fun night at one of our local gin mills or cash might quietly disappear from an unattended resort cash box,  I am talking serious crime against "our person" and those we love.

I will never forget the time a few years ago when I was "showing" the Island to a prospective client that just happened to be from New Jersey. As we toodled down a quiet remote Daufuskie lane we came upon a group of children on their bikes. The cute little girls with their long blond hair streaming behind them waved and greeted us with a friendly hello. It was at that point the "Grandma" sitting next to me said "Oh my God" what are those kids doing way out here all by themselves". I calmly replied "their Mom probably told them to git out of the house and go play just like in the old days". Mam....This is Daufuskie".

A wise man once wrote...Money does not buy happiness, but it does buy you two (2) things. It enables one to provide the best of health care for your family from the best specialists anywhere in the world. And....it enables you to purchase a home in a very desirable area where the chance of a malicious attack on you or someone you love is somewhat reduced.

So, if you have worked hard all your life with the dream of having a primary or second home on a "real" Island please give me a call today. We will toodle around the Island in my golf cart checkin' out this special mystical place. And ...if we get real lucky we will come upon our Beaufort County policeman that makes occasional visits and rides around in a big old white pick um up truck. He kind of reminds me of the Maytag repairman, just a lonely sort of guy with nothin' to do.... so a friendly "Fuskie Wave"  will surely make his day.

See ya on the high tide.......

LowCountry Joe

P.S.  The Grandma from New Jersey bought the next day.