Okefenokee Swamp, Amelia Island
July 24, 2015

Sea coast, water, oceans, bays, river, creeks, branches, lakes, ponds - where there is not a substantial body of water along the south Georgia coast, one finds sandy wet ground, and of course that is pretty much the same in all places along the seaboard.  A vastly different environment than our arid Arizona clime.  Even though we have four nice lakes in our hometown, there is no sense of the marshiness that prevails in this country.  Take a step or two away from Prescott lakes and all is dry again.

I have changed tenses, now in the present because it feels more comfortable; I hope Dad is approving from his other-worldly lookout.  Writing was one of his and my connections: he loved exchanging thoughts about styles and correctness.

There ya go, Dad, I went from water to writing without so much as a howdy-do, not particularly acceptable except perhaps in this very informal format, and I love that you whole-heartedly endorsed my style.

Okefenokee Swamp is where this was leading before I went off-rail.  We stayed at a rather rustic RV park just about as far south in Georgia as a person can get before falling over the line into Florida because Chris wanted to check out Okefenokee.  The designated swamp covers a huge area; our position to the east funneled us to the piney side instead of the cypressy western section.

An interesting place: what we saw was quite a bit different than what I had anticipated.  We did lots of hiking, saw a mama alligator and one of her offspring, and identified three woodpeckers, not surprising with the huge quantities of dead wood.  There was a pileated woodpecker, and new for the trip - a red-headed woodpecker in addition to a life bird - a red-cockaded woodpecker.

Oddly enough, the red-cockaded woodpecker is there primarily because the refuge provides artificial nesting cavities for them.  As it was explained to us: that bird takes several years to excavate a nesting cavity because they utilize only live trees, not the softer dead wood other woodpeckers favor, thus without the helping hand, their breeding cycle is so slow as to cause them to be in jeopardy of survival.

I double-dog dare you to try walking through that.

The east side of Okefenokee may be dry relative to other parts of it; nevertheless, it has water a'plenty.

Chesser Island . . .

The biggest surprise to me in Okefenokee was the extensive historical homestead of the Chesser family.  Beautifully preserved inside and out, although we did not have interior access, the place gave an exceptionally clear picture of what life was like for those folks in the 1920s in that isolated place.

I was surprised by the cleared white sand yard, ostensibly for the purpose of seeing the approach of venomous snakes and fire protection.  The family kept the it weed-free and swept.  What a testament to their resilience that they could survive in such isolated and harsh conditions.

And of course I had to photograph the house from every possible angle.

By and large self-sufficient, the Chessers' primary cash crops were sugar cane, which they grew and milled, and turpentine, made by tapping pine trees for their sap.

Sugar cane.

The Chesser's sugar cane mill; the crushers grind the sap from the cane as a person or mule walks around and around pushing the long handle.

Large cast iron pots used to boil down the sugar cane sap.

Syrup shed.

The well was ingeniously cased with a hollowed out rot-resistant cypress log to prevent the sandy sides from collapsing.

The pump in the screened porch still delivers a nice flow of water.

Corn crib.

I have a fascination with old screen doors . . .

. . . . Really.

Wow!  This is so similar to the desert cooler built by my Grandpa Zack Kelley, and which now sits on my front porch.

Amelia Island, St. Mary's, dolphins . . .

The St. Mary's River separates the lovely historic town of St. Mary's from Fernandina Beach.  Although we only briefly explored that region, it definitely goes on the list of places that rate a return visit and more time.

The beaches are long gorgeous sandy stretches; the water is cooler than what we experienced in the Atlantic at the Golden Isles, but absolutely perfect swimming temperatures.  I finally got over my shark scare and enjoyed the surf immensely.

Dolphins joined us a bit farther out; we also watched a very large pod of them when we were on Jekyll Island - seemed that they were frolicking around there and feeding.

We thoroughly enjoyed a drive around St. Mary's delightful historic residential area.  I was interested in the marker that told about the burial day of President George Washington.  Evidently, a parade was formed at St. Mary's to meet an incoming boat carrying a (presumably empty) flag-draped casket which was carried inland for a ceremonial burial.  That spot was marked by the planting of four oak trees.  The so-called Washington pump is at the site of a well drilled in the spot that same year.

This wonderful wood carving in a St. Mary's front yard caught my attention.

History by marker . . .

One particular highway plaque that conveyed historical information really captured my interest.  It was in an area of endless forests - no villages, no settlements, no houses, nothing but trees for many miles, the kind of place where I always wonder about who might have lived there and what would it have been like.

That marker about the Treaty of Coleraine brought a sense of human life to those piney woods.  It told us that James Seagrove, an Indian agent, had a house and trading post near there.  That name changed the faceless wilderness into a place with real people.  It further told us that Creek Indians inhabited the area, and that in 1796, there was a large assemblage of them with Georgia state representatives and Federal troops.

Those kinds of places can seem so untouched, yet people have been there previously and were just as busy with their lives as any of us today.  Funny how one bit of information could bring that home.

Birding . . . or not . . . 

We picked up only a couple of new trip birds during this stay: purple gallinule and ruby-crowned kinglet.

It's not every day you see an RV towing a cannon.

Our neighbor at the last RV park told us about Knight's seafood . . .

. . . . where we scored scrumptious $5 shrimp . . .

. . . just off the boat.

Country Oaks RV park is defined by country.  Fishing is allowed in the pond; however, keeping your catch is gonna cost you - "Weigh in on the porch", the sign says.

Two pinto mules, a flock of chickens and one lone guinea fowl (we added it to the bird list) are among the inhabitants of Country Oaks.  The guinea is the lone survivor of a flock of 17; it grazes among the RVs at will.