Daily Archives: 1 10 November 14

Georgetown, SC

Monday, 10 November                                                                            31.1 SM

You never know what you'll see in the water.

You never know what you’ll see in the water.

From the basin at Osprey Marina, it’s a short run down the rest of the land cut to where the waterway joins the Waccamaw River, reminiscent at first of the southern stretch of the Dismal Swamp Canal. But soon, there’s no mistaking this is low country.

Spanish Moss.  Rice fields.  It's the Low Country.

Spanish Moss. Rice fields. It’s the Low Country.

The Waccamaw widens, with the shores showing for miles the vestiges of rice and indigo plantations of the Ante-bellum South. Spanish moss is seen for the first time, draped on host trees here-and-there. And instead of porpoise, if one looks sharply, one may see a deer swimming across the river.

A Jeanneau 40 wends through the Waccamaw weeds.

A Jeanneau 40 wends through the Waccamaw weeds.

The Waccamaw’s deep here, running 17 to 30 feet, so there’d be time to relax and enjoy the vista. But relax and, what’s right off the bow but another clump of something that looks like a waterlily. Big floats, four and five feet across, bobbing in the brownish water. They’re all along the twenty miles or so down to the turn up the Sampit River to Georgetown.

The clock tower anchors a rejuvenated Front Street.

The clock tower anchors a rejuvenated Front Street.

Georgetown makes a sensible place to stop for the night, it being one of the very few towns along this stretch of the ICW. Even were that not the case, this town would be a worthwhile destination. A few working shrimpers still call this their home port but not many. Instead, the economy here—as in so many waterfront towns–now is the waterfront. The handsome Harborwalk pier is patrolled by thirsty tourists who choose from a dozen dining options, from French to Cajun, Low Country, or just burgers. There are the usual “antique” shops, art galleries and other retail, too. There’s room to anchor in nine feet or so and a couple of marina docks at which to, yes, plug in on a chilly night.

A block back from the harbor, many of Georgetown’s earliest homes remain, standing shoulder to shoulder under a canopy of oaks and elms. Trees and homes date back two hundred years or more. It’s a beautiful town for a stroll on a cool evening in the fall.

Low Country. We like it.

Steadfast out.

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