Thursday, December 24, 2020
The folks at the St. Simons Island Visitor Center were right, Goulds Inlet is THE place for sunrise. It’s less than a ten minute drive from the hotel in a place called East Bay.
The inlet is named after Horace Gould. At eighteen, he left his family in Granville, Massachusetts and made his way to St. Simons Island. He found himself on a ship building crew, cutting massive oak trees and fashioning them into America’s first naval warships.
When Congress authorized building a lighthouse on the island in 1804, Gould stepped in. He proposed building the seventy-five foot structure using native materials and turning them into tabby. To save costs, he tore down some of the remaining buildings of Fort Frederica and reshaped them.
Once built, Gould applied for and remained lighthouse keeper for the next twenty-seven years. The light stood until Confederate forced blew it up to keep it out of Federal hands.
Not only is this a great spot for sunrise, it turned out to be an interesting place to people watch. As I stood there on the wet sand, I watched a woman in bare feet dragging a roller bag down the soft, wet sandy beach. She rounded the corner and was gone.
Another guy came with his dog. He tossed a tennis ball into the water and his dog eagerly swam out to fetch it. Once back on the beach, he’s pause, and drop it up hill. It would then roll back to his owner. This was still going on when I left.
Another woman brought her dog out to the beach, only to watch it run around for a while. We had a brief chat from a safe distance. She was wearing blue flannel pajamas, sandals, a mink coat and a red Santa hat.
Once the room was packed up and everything loaded in the car, I stopped in the lobby to check out. The woman at the desk had an interesting tattoo on her forearm. It was a partially peeled purple banana. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked about it.
Her Mom was a huge fan of Don Henley(but not the Eagles), Def Leppard and Prince. Her favorite Prince song was Let go Crazy. In the song is the lyric, “Let's look for the purple banana.” Her Mom was going to get a purple banana tattoo when she became ill. When she died, the entire family decided to get one in tribute. The same tattoo artist did the entire family. He was so moved by it, he found an empty spot on his own arm, and squeezed one in.
It was time to head north. I passed on I-95 to take the more interesting Hwy 17 instead.
I've driven this corridor enough times I knew the towns as they approached. Being Christmas Eve morning, it all seemed pretty quiet. Passing through Townsend, I did stop into their tiny chapel.
I've driven through Midway quite a few times, but have never stopped for anything but gas. But, when I passed an old walled cemetery with a large monolith, I felt compelled to turn back. I parked the car and found all the entrance gates chained and locked.
Even more curious, a smaller fenced area in disrepair, holding only two headstones, each with both American and Israeli flags.
Both J.H. Rokenbaugh and Dr. H. Delegal served in Georgia's 5th Cavalry Regiment, fighting for the Confederacy. I placed a pebble on the headstones and drove on. There are five breweries in Savannah. Being Christmas Eve, only Moon River Brewing Company was actually open. I found a spot in a public parking garage and walked over.
Sophie was my server and couldn’t have been any more friendly. She brought me samples, answered my questions and found out who the band playing on the PA was. There was something about the bass lines that was getting under my skin, in the good way. It turned out to be Graham Central Station, with Larry Graham on bass. And yes, I did go on line and order a CD.
One of the beers on the list was an IPA brewed with Rosemary. This was a first. You could smell and taste the rosemary. For some reason, it reminded me of freshly bakes bread.
A sign of the times...
From downtown Savannah, it’s a short drive out to my happy place, Tybee Island. This time I was staying at the Ambassador Inn. The beach is across the street and one parking lot away. I had barely finished unloading the car when the promised rain began to splatter. I knew I wasn’t going to get a sunset, but a walk on the beach would have been nice. Perhaps tomorrow.
