River of many names
There were four crossings along the twenty miles of county highway between Greenville and Spartanburg. Enoree, South Tyger, Middle Tyger, and North Tyger: all rivers flowing together to form one.
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Helping hands
Kingfisher had been neglected for several months, displaced from her protected shelter under my house by a mitering workstation, and ignored by the arbitrary demands of home improvement. Plans for a sail were disrupted
A nature observation
The opposition of the paths was striking. The center of the solar eclipse’s path of totality, heading to the southeast out to sea across Bulls Bay. And almost 28 years ago,
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Inverted moment
I had been speaking the previous day at a party about the assets of my chosen sailing craft, the Sunfish. Simplicity and stability were at the top of the list. In preparing for the sail out to the Northeast Point of Bull Island, I was aware of the long interlude
Elkmont revisited
The trail shrunk to a single-width path, one seeing limited foot traffic. The place had a familiar aura, and it seemed that I had walked here many years before. The memory unfolded – it was a solo hike in my days of family camping back in the ’90’s. My friend Jim Smolen and I had set out for
A youthful request
Prior to leaving Garris Landing via ferry for the auto tour on Bull Island during the fourth annual Bulls Bay Nature Festival, I had been alerted by the volunteer coordinator, Jennifer Heisler, about one of the participants I would be guiding. The girl, a pre-teen, had been talking with Jennifer about fiddler crabs
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In Memory of Jane Wineglass
On April 9 I traveled to the Smokies for a week of camping and hiking. I learned later in the week that the Reverend Jane Green Wineglass passed away on that Sunday at the.age of 89. Jane was the fifth individual whom I interviewed for the Voices of the Santee Delta oral history project.
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Relentless waters
I took a break from construction, the building of roof trusses, to go for a sail. It was a change in task, environment,
Fallen trees
During recent walks around Bull Island and the Washo Reserve at Santee Coastal Reserve I noted fallen trees from Hurricane Matthew. These casualties were quite limited relative to Hurricane Hugo’s effects in the same areas. I found myself peering under the overturned root balls,
Thinking about it
The northern gale blew cold, the temperature in the 30’s. Layered up I headed out in the brisk wind, and when turning into the gusty breeze some icy precipitation bounced off my glasses.
Adaptation
The day after Christmas broke gray, and more of the same was anticipated. A long interlude, four months, had occurred since my last sail. That warm day sail into Bulls Bay
Two views of an island
We approached Cape Island from the sound, motoring up to the pier at Cowpen Point. Dropping off people and gear, we ran northeast to the backside of the island’s northern end for disembarking, and hauling more gear across to our staging point.
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