I was listening to bird sounds at the landing before launching Kingfisher. I had named the Sunfish this bird for some similar characteristics – active, small, not speedy, and a distinctive look while in flight. I recalled last October finding a quiet place, a secret spot, along the Middle Prong in Walker Valley in the Smokies. I sat down to observe, and was surprised to hear the harsh rattling call of multiple kingfishers flying along the watercourse. I mistakenly had thought they were coastal birds. But on this day, the first full day of spring, I heard no familiar calls from resident kingfishers before sailing through the creeks of the Cape Romain marshes toward Bull Island.
Conditions were most favorable in terms of wind and tide. However the passage to the public dock on the island required a course at times against wind and tide, and progress halted with lulls in the wind.
I finally was able to ease off onto a freer point of sail, allowing me to stand up for a different perspective. A distinctive bird, an eagle, circled high overhead but essentially on my course. I sailed on toward the island; the eagle soared higher and higher.
On the last section of Bull Creek before the turn into Summerhouse Creek and the public dock, I was passed by a second boat. It was not a ferry day, so I did not anticipate much company on the island. There was a boat in the refuge basin designated for USFWS business. My passage to the dock totaled just under two hours.
I was greeted before reaching the Dominick House by a small alligator sunning near a wetland, and fox squirrels scampering around the live oaks. I had planned a favorite loop walk, a 10K, and started out across the island to the beach. I arrived at low tide, and the wind had filled in over the ocean in a southwest direction, a fine sign for my later return to the mainland. Adding comfort to this beautiful day was the absence of biting mosquitoes.
As I approached the Boneyard, the frames of the wooden vessel buried in the sand stood out. Erosion had exposed more of the frame than on previous visits. The craft’s history was unknown, and the mystery of its people’s stories lingered.
I took advantage of the low tide to walk through the Boneyard, and use the opportunity to study root structure, both from fallen and standing trees. The power and relentlessness of the ocean’s forces has continued to impact and grow this skeleton forest.
A tidal creek cut across the beach, draining Moccasin Pond, and narrow enough in places to cross without getting my shoes wet. My mission on this trip was to check out the breach of the Lighthouse Road that had occurred back in a December storm. At the end of the Boneyard I looked for old landmarks, but instead saw a significant watercourse severing the beach. The torrential rains from that December storm had raised the level of the Jacks Creek impoundment to a critical level, and the dam had burst here.
I have been watching the steady erosion of the east dike, but had looked to the northeast for the rupture point. The new creek allowing the Atlantic waters to merge with those of Jacks Creek appeared too deep to ford, even at low tide.
I walked along the edge of this new waterway, and worked my way around until finally able to climb back up on the severed dike. Looking at the scarp of the embankment, the breach exposed the years of labor by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The connecting section of the dike was distant.
Back on the Lighthouse Road, and not many steps away, refuge staff had repaired this section of road in the last couple of years. Rebuilding this embankment would be a huge project. The noise of machines working sounded in the distance, and it appeared to be the building of a new road into the maritime forest. A bulldozer was forming a roadway, and trucks hauled sand quarried from a Pleistocene beach ridge. I wondered if this activity was part of a repair effort.
At the junction of Lighthouse Road and Alligator Alley, I contemplated my return walk. Peering over toward Moccasin Pond, sections of white showed up behind the trees, enticing me to take a closer look. Walking to the pond’s edge, I observed a flock of white pelicans swimming on the remaining waters, probably a hundred of these spectacular birds. I had gushed over seeing a smaller flock at the landing in January, and this experience was even more awe inspiring. These birds continually ducked their heads to feed, a behavior so different from the plunge-dive feeding of their brown pelican cousins.
On the walk back along Alligator Alley, the view to the northeast revealed a much shallower Jacks Creek impoundment and exposed mud flats. And in the distance, a white blotch of birds, another flock of white pelicans.
The return carried me past the grounds of the Dominick House and towards the landing. The stronger winds would make for a briefer sail to the mainland with the wind mainly at my back, probably cutting the passage time in half. As I passed the small pond on the edge of those grounds, wildlife appeared – a fox squirrel, a raccoon taking a close look at me before slipping off, a fox ahead on the road darting off into the woods. And the welcome rattling call of a kingfisher.
Thank you for the preview, Bob! Your writing always fills me with awe and wonder.
Thank you Penny. Working to share the awe and wonder.
Wonderful article and photos … we are grateful for such a beauty so nearby and those like you who continue efforts to keep it that way. Thank you!
I am so grateful too for our adjacent natural resources that we can never take for granted.
Thank you for the wonderful walk descriptions and pictures! I felt like I was along for the journey. I particularly enjoyed the pictures of the white pelicans and would be content to gaze on that all day long. I loved the book so have fun at the book signing.
Thank you Pam. The white pelican gathering was very special at that “secret” spot.
Beautiful yet vulnerable like all Nature.
Thank you so much for the adventure and observations plus the amazing photos.
We do appreciate you keeping an eye out for this special place in the world. ❤️🌎
“Beautiful yet vulnerable like all Nature” is a fine way to express it.
So many wonderful White Pelicans. thanks for the discovery!
If we spent more time on the island in the winter we would probably see them regularly in the ponds. Yet, as it turns out, their appearance is more sporadic.
WOW and Thanks for another heartful trip to Bull Is
It was quite a day, glorious weather, favorable conditions, bountiful wildlife.
Hi Bob. These pictures are stunning. Thank you so much for sharing these with us.
A while back I was in the Gulf with 2 friends off of Sanibel (Florida). I saw some pelicans & said “Look, penguins….” I meant pelicans but “penguins” stumbled out. My friends bought me a stuffed penguin and a stuffed pelican so I would always know the difference.
Thanks again!
Haha, I’ll be on the lookout for some penguins in the waters.
Thank you for this, I spent the past weekend at Dominick House. I had previously been in October…the landscape transformation in such a short time was incredible. You describe it perfectly.
Oh, you got to see the before and after, during that short time period. The forces at work are immense, just like our world.