In Charleston, the Truth Lies Somewhere Between the Cooper Sunrise and the Ashley Sunset

Charleston's antiquity runs as deep as its harbor waters and its tales are as tall as the steeple of St. Phillips on Church Street. As one of the oldest cities in America, it is a place where reality and legend walk the same streets declaring a timeless story about the lives of its progeny and their hallowed structures. A place where fact and fiction have been skillfully blurred to the delight of those who come to bask in its charm and grace. This article is about some things you will hear on a horse-drawn carriage ride or walking tour that simply is not likely to be true.

Over the course of 300 years, the Pink House has proven itself resilient. It survived over thirty hurricanes, two major earthquakes, two wars, and multiple catastrophic fires. It has a must-see courtyard designed by Loutrel Briggs and a picture-perfect view of St. Philip's steeple through a window.

Like many old Charleston landmarks, it has acquired a ghost story or two. The apparition sighted and from time to time photographed, is that of a female figure wandering and pacing back and forth as though waiting for something or perhaps someone. Some believe the sightings are the spirit of one of the women who once worked at the property during its tavern and bordello days, and others believe it to be the ghost of the female pirate Anne Bonny. According to the narrative, she resided on the third floor and ran a popular business on the floors below. There are several variants to the story of Anne Bonny. The following tale is the most popular.

Born in Ireland, the red-headed Anne is believed to be the illegitimate daughter of attorney William Cormac and his housekeeper. To escape the backlash the sordid situation created, Cormac left Ireland with his mistress and his daughter. They sailed to Charleston.

Anne was a handful for sure and had a fiery temper. While married to James Bonny, a small-time pirate and informant, she became involved with Calico Jack Rackam. To avoid a beating by her husband because of her affair, she ran away with Rackam and joined his pirate crew on a ship they stole in New Providence called the William.

Mural at Pirate Cove Playground, Folly Beach

In 1720, Jonathan Barnet attacked Rackam's ship and took him prisoner with Bonny, Mary Read, and the rest of the crew. The punishment for piracy in the 18th century was execution by hanging. One by one, her friends perished, including Calico Jack, but Bonny and her close friend, Mary Read, pleaded they were both pregnant. The court spared Bonny and Read from hanging like the others. She began to serve her prison sentence and gave birth, but there is no record of Bonny's release, execution, or death. This has fed speculation as to her fate.

After everything has been searched and said, a Post and Courier article, The true and false stories of Anne Bonny, pirate woman of the Caribbean, summed up Anne Bonny's story this way, "Nearly three centuries after Anne Bonny's trial, we know that a woman named Anne Bonny was alive in the early 1700s, that some people called her Ann Fulford and Bonn, that she lived in the Bahamas for a time and joined a pirate crew."

"We don’t know whether she ever lived in Charleston, who her parents were, whether she married a man named James Bonny, her true role aboard the pirate sloop, what her relationships were with Jack Rackam and Mary Read, and whether she ever was released from the Jamaican prison." Often times, the legend becomes larger than life. In Charleston, the truth lies somewhere between the Cooper sunrise and the Ashley sunset.

This is true of one of Charleston's oldest townhouses located at 143 and 145 Church Street. It was built by Huguenot merchant Alexander Peronneau as a double tenement around 1740, likely after Charleston's great fire of 1740. The material used in its construction was Bermuda stone placed on a brick foundation. Bermuda stone was widely used in the construction of early Charleston. The city's old fortification wall was made from Bermuda stone, as was the 1769 seawall, which was probably destroyed in the 1800s by a hurricane.

In the late eighteenth century, the double tenement was owned by craftsman and planter Paul Smiser. Next, Mrs. Goodwyn Rhett took possession of the property. In 1928, Mrs. Rhett restored the home to a single residence with Thomas Pinckney's help, a local African-American builder. Outbuildings located behind the primary residence were constructed using salvaged brick from the former Shepheard's Tavern on Broad Street, also called The Corner Tavern, which was demolished in the same year.

It is believed, after the restoration of the house, rumors began to circulate claiming pirates lived there in its early days and used an underground tunnel system located in its basement that was connected to the waterfront of the Battery. The rumors stated the tunnels were the primary means of smuggling and escaping by the pirate visitors. During extensive renovations and the redirection of Charleston's sewage systems in the 1930s, the tunnel was filled with sand, as the story tells.

One rumor claims Blackbeard's legendary cache of gold is buried somewhere within the tunnel or in the basement of the house, which remains highly suspect because facts lean toward the presumption Blackbeard never set foot on the Charleston peninsula. As to the assumption pirates stayed there, Charleston's pirate days had ended by 1720. Although, sailors could have stayed at the tenement. However, search as you may, no legitimate evidence has been found to support such claims.

It is hard to say with any surety who visited the double tenement at 143 and 145 Church Street and what happened there. The name Pirate House became attached to the address due to the undocumented stories. Despite contrary facts, it will forever be known as the Pirate House, and the rumor will prevail with those who choose to believe. And to those who choose otherwise, in Charleston, even the truth is legendary. The house at 37 Meeting Street has similar stories.

The single house is an architectural style found almost exclusively in Charleston. The design is responsible for much of the city's unique charm. The floor layout was perfect for the narrow street-facing lots originally laid out in Charleston in the late 17th and early 18th centuries.

The single house is only one room wide and two rooms deep on each of its levels with a central hall between them. They were purposely built with the piazzas facing south or west to get the cooling, prevailing breezes from the sea. It runs the length of the house with a public door facing the street at one end. Visitors would enter the home through this street entrance and traverse the porch to the home's centralized private door. Entertaining was done on the second floor, further from the dust and noise of the street.

While walking or riding the historic streets of the city, a tour guide might tell you single houses were a reaction to the city taxing street frontage, but truth be told, it had more to do with the efficient use of limited real estate in the confines of a peninsula. A Charleston County Public Library article entitled The Charleston Single states, "Early Charlestonians developed the single house as an ingenious solution to the various demands of their unique urban landscape: a house that provided privacy, ventilation, fire protection, and social status within the confines of a tightly restrictive public space."

Charleston's One-time Fort Sumter Hotel—An Ideal Location and an Intriguing History

If you like history and intrigue, you will like this story about an old Charleston landmark. Its address is 1 King Street. It is flanked by the Black Pearl on one side and the iconic South Battery thoroughfare on the other side. Its front yard is the historic oak-filled oyster-shelled pathways of White Point Garden.

When built in the early 1900s, it was the tallest building in Charleston at seven stories high. As you stroll past its front entrance, you will notice a plaque next to the door with the name Fort Sumter House imprinted on it. You will not be able to enter. It is a private condominium complex. However, in 1924, the year it opened to the public, it was a hotel called Fort Sumter.

The Spanish Colonial-style structure was designed by prominent commercial architect G. Lloyd Preacher of Atlanta, GA, and built at a cost of $850,000. A brochure from 1929 advertised the Fort Sumter Hotel as "Charleston's Only Waterfront Hotel. It was described as having "Spacious lobbies, sun parlors, and terraces, comfortably and luxuriously furnished, overlooks the water and offers cordial hospitality in an atmosphere to be found in few hotels." It had two hundred outside guest rooms, each with a combination tub and shower, and comfortable beds equipped with Spring air mattresses.

Among its amenities were a unique ceiling of worm-eaten pecky cypress, a ground floor dining room with soft lights radiating from three tiers of stately electric fixtures, and an expansive grand ballroom and lounge on its second floor. The lobby was designed with pinkish beige marble flooring throughout. The original corridor from the front door to the back of the building was known as "Peacock Alley." Rare in the day, it featured air conditioning and "manufactured ice" in its drinks.

Fort Sumter Hotel's Terrace Dining Room was supervised under the expert direction of a famous chef. Its cuisine offered the choicest fresh seafood and noted southern dishes. It touted its use of ice refrigeration to maintain the taste of food. In 1954, The Rampart Room replaced the hotel's main dining room. The area was designed to be an informal lounge for casual dining and was decorated with a few historic touches, including a large mural of the bombardment of Fort Sumter. The Rampart Room offered menu items such as roast beef, sirloin steak, fried chicken, Spanish Mackerl, soft-shelled crabs, and shrimp pie.

From 1942 to 1945, it served as the headquarters for the Sixth Naval District, after which, it was remodeled and returned to hotel operation in 1946.

Fort Sumter Hotel had an ideal location but never saw the level of success it expected. It traded hands multiple times over the years. In 1967, Sheraton Hotels purchased the hotel for $435,000 and spent half a million dollars on renovations. In 1973, a group of local investors ironically bought the property for $850,000, the original price tag to construct it back in 1923. The investors closed the books on the hotel and spent $2 million on converting the interior into 67 condominiums. Amenities came to include on-site security, parking lots, an exercise room, and a private palmetto tree-lined pool next to Murray Blvd and the Ashley River waterfront wall.

The Fort Sumter Hotel's claim to fame was the individuals who stayed there. The most notable being John F. Kennedy. It is a story similar to the Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard movie called "Allied." At the time, he was a young Naval intelligence officer. John's father had him transferred to Charleston to distance him from a woman introduced to him by his sister. Despite his father's objections, the two kept in contact, and the woman would visit JFK in Charleston. The date was February of 1942. The room number was 132. For several nights, JFK engaged in a romantic rendevous with Inga Arvad, a former Miss Denmark. Adolf Hitler described her as the "perfect Nordic beauty." She was suspected to be a Nazi spy by the FBI because of her connections with Hitler. The room was bugged. The ensuing scandal changed the course of history. JFK's father had his son reassigned to a PT boat in the Pacific after getting word of their encounters at the hotel.

In April 1947, Tennessee Williams and Agent Audrey Wood met at the hotel with Irene Selznick, the wife of David O. Selznick of "Gone with the Wind" fame. They came to discuss her producing Williams' newest play, "A Streetcar Named Desire." Williams hand wrote scenes for the play on the hotel stationery. This fact was mentioned in a New York Post article called Get a piece of Brando for half a million where it stated, "Bundled into a bunch of boxes are the original typewritten manuscript with Williams’ scribbled changes in the margins; scenes he wrote on stationery from the Fort Sumter Hotel in Charleston, S.C..."

Alfred Hutty, an American artist and one of the leading figures in the Charleston Renaissance, completed a mural of the Attack on Fort Sumter for the lobby of the Fort Sumter Hotel in 1949. Throughout the 1950s, Hutty's works were on permanent exhibit at the hotel. His original mural was removed from the hotel and moved to a museum. Since that time, the residents commissioned a reproduction of the mural for the lobby of the building. I have included a photograph of the mural as you see it today. The lobby is stunning.

The scene along the Murray Blvd seawall during the hotel's active years was quite different from what you see as you stroll that stretch of the Ashley river now. Docks extended from Murray Boulevard out into the river along the wall. Boats would drop off and pick up hotel guests at the docks, also used for sunbathing and swimming. They were removed in the early 1970s, just before the hotel closed. Many Charlestonians refer to the Fort Sumter House as the "grande dame."

A Peculiar Summerville House With A Story Next To Unbelievable

Today, it is a fortress of solitude. Obscured by a thick canopy of trees and ornamental bushes, its street entrance is guarded by two brick pillars topped with stately stone lions sitting in wait. The driveway immediately divides with each section leading to decorative iron gates flanking both sides of the hidden property that is encircled by a six foot matching black iron fence. Just beyond the sheltering branches of its solemn trees, the main residential dwelling sits in peaceful repose. Considered one of the oldest in Summerville, and according to the Dorchester County Courthouse—the oldest in the county, the house has a bewildering past that is close to downright mysterious. The address of this matron of Summerville is 1006 South Main Street. According to certain sources, it was built somewhere between 1790 and 1810.

Here is the first of the conundrums. 1006 South Main Street is in Dorchester County and the property records for this address are kept in the Dorchester County Courthouse, but records only date back to the 1880's. The reason for the 1880's date is because Dorchester County as a separate entity didn't exist. The properties in this area of Summerville were part of Colleton County and records were kept at the Colleton County Courthouse. During the Civil War, all the records were moved to Columbia for safe keeping. Unfortunately, General Sherman burned Columbia and all the Colleton County Courthouse records of houses built before 1865 were lost.

The oldest Dorchester County records on hand state Harriet H. Barnwell sold 1006 South Main Street to John Rugheimer in 1881. In the deed of this sale, it mentions a survey being done in 1831. So, now we have the oldest stated date on record. Then, there is a story told by one of its owners, who owned the house after 1978, where they state finding in the upstairs bedroom this saying, "Mary Margaret smoked. 1832." We now have two sources confirming an 1830's date and since someone was living in the house in 1832, it makes sense the house was already in existence and built before 1832. What proof remains of the house being built between 1790 and 1810?

As shown in the South Carolina Department of Archives and History National Register list of 1976, 1006 South Main Street is called the Ancrum House. Porch Rocker Recollections, which was published in 1980, also refers to it as the Ancrum house. The Dorchester County Courthouse records show previous owners, aside from the two already mentioned, were S. Bonsal Brooks, who purchased the property in 1927, Dr. Kenneth Lynch owning it in 1934, and the Fehrs buying it in 1978, which brings us past the 1976 Archives date. No Ancrums are mentioned up to then, which means someone by the name of Ancrum may have owned it at some point, and that obviously would have to be before 1881.

The only Ancrum of any notoriety my research could find from around that time was William Ancrum. He was a wealthy American merchant, slave trader and indigo planter from Charleston, South Carolina who served in the Third General Assembly during the Revolutionary War from 1779–1780, and was around until 1808, which puts him in the 1790 to 1810 period of time. We also know rich Charleston land owners built summer homes in this area of the pineland at that time. Is it possible, this is the Ancrum spoken of? Possible, but it also could have been a relative of this Ancrum. William Ancrum was never married, but he had a brother, George. The George Ancrum name is connected to the Berkeley County Ancrum Plantation.

There is another house bearing the Ancrum name in Summerville. It is located at 515 West Carolina Avenue. According to the National Register, it was constructed circa 1809. It is called the Ancrum-Waring House, but here again, there is bewildering contradictions. The South Carolina Department of Archives and History refers to the house address as 515 and records refer to it as 517 (said to be the second oldest house in town). I have driven down West Carolina and no 515 address exists. Plus, there is a message attached to the record with the words, "stylistic changes; no longer appears to be 1809 but rather 1890." Now, that's very peculiar. So, until further verification, the Ancrum connection to 1006 will remain open to discussion.

There is more conundrums. Today, 1006 South Main Street is a one story home. It has been said the original house had two stories. It appears a fire burned the roof and when it was rebuilt, the roof was lowered to one story. The Ferhs, who owned the house after 1978, said they found two cots in the walls of the rebuilt upstairs where a person cannot stand upright without hitting the roof, which provides proof the area was used as a bedroom at one time. Exactly when the fire took place is unknown, but it had to be before 1978.

To throw more confusion on the matter, one present day real estate source says the home was built in 1982 and was last sold in 1991, while another states the house was built in 1996. How can a house be last sold before it was built. Yet clearly, the known property records show it was built at least sometime before 1881. Let's get on the same page Summerville realtors.

To add more peculiarities to the mix, the property was described as having beautiful brick walkways leading nowhere, the foundations of two slave cottages still visible, a handcuff with chains in the garden, a toppled live oak that once housed a pair of pileated woodpeckers, and the sound of footsteps that fade away.

Here is the peculiarity of all peculiarities. Fern Michaels came to own the house in 1993. A popular Summerville magazine wrote an article about Michaels the author and reported she "bought a 300-hundred year old plantation house (the oldest home in Dorchester County) and embraced her new life as a southern transplant." If this is true, it would put the house's construction approximately in the early 1700's not the 1790s to 1810 stated by Beth's Pineland Village. Michael's did confirm the writing on the rafters "Mary Margaret smoked", but did not mention the "1832 date." Apparently, Mary Margaret did not like the changes the author--who gutted the house--was making. She made her objections known by moving things around, stopping the clocks at 9:10 am once a week, messing around with the author's computer, putting azaleas from the garden on her night stand, and numerous other things. Now, if that is not bewildering and close to downright mysterious, what is?

Seven houses built before 1830 still existed in Summerville at the time Beth's Pineland Village was published. 1006 South Main Street is one of them. If all the written information about the house is true, its construction dates to shortly after the end of the Revolutionary War and near to the time the town of Dorchester on the Ashley River was abandoned (to be modest, the "300 hundred year old" statement is likely a stretch, but then again, who knows.).

1006 South Main Street was around when the little village in the pines was just beginning and residents were doing business at the town market on a street that no longer exists close to where the first town hall used to be. It was reported "every time a child was born in the house, a room was added." The house has changed with the times and so has Summerville. End of mystery, not likely. There could be more to the story, and it's all pretty peculiar to me.

More Summerville stories

The Old Town Hall Bell Tower—The Keeper Of Some Of Summerville’s Most Controversial And Precious Stories

Summerville was a growing town in 1892. With the ensuing growth, time, if not necessity, called for a new town hall to be built. A corner plot was chosen where the streets of West Richardson and S. Main Street intersected. The cost to build it was set at $6,250.

The planned four story building would wisely face the town's main square, an idyllic vantage point. The first floor would house a high-end grocery store called the "Tea Pot". The second floor would contain the municipal offices. On the third floor, a multi-purpose room/auditorium space would be available for special town events such as dances, plays, parties and operas. The fourth story would shelter the structures massive bell, but as history would have it, it would shelter more than just the bell. It became the keeper for some of Summerville’s most controversial and precious stories.

Children were forbidden to go up into the town hall belfry for obvious safety reasons, not to leave unmentioned the easy temptation presented to an impetuous youth to playfully ring the bell. Although, stories tell of savvy youngsters secretly trudging their way up through the humid darkness of the steep, creaky belfry stairs, navigating a hatchway, and then a catwalk to get to the top. Being the tallest building on Hutchinson Square, the view the belfry offered was often the prize. Imagine the thrill one would experience at seeing from above President Roosevelt and his entourage ride by on Main Street as they made their way to the Pine Forest Inn.

Now, visualize the chaos a person could unleash on the town with an unauthorized ringing of the bell. There was a $200 fine for anyone foolish enough to do it. A popular story tells of a physician named Louis Miles ignoring the law and ringing the bell to announce the birth of his daughter to a confused crowd that gathered below. He happily paid the fine not once, but twice for the same reason.

View of Summerville from the old town hall bell tower in its early years

During World War II, civilians were stationed in the Town Hall bell tower as lookouts. Their task was to watch the skies for enemy aircraft and when spotted, sound the alarm. Silhouettes of enemy aircraft were pinned on the interior walls to assist the lookouts in making proper identifications. One night, the town had a scare when out of the darkened skies a plane buzzed the tower. Combined with several other suspicious incidents that night, officials were convinced the town was under attack, but fortunately, it was all a false alarm. It turned out an impulsive local boy on a training flight just couldn't resist the urge to be playful. Maybe, he heard one of the town's unattached pretty girls was on duty that night.

Young ladies, who were on duty in the bell tower, would use the opportunity to do some boy spotting. Young military men were all over the town during the war. The young ladies would use their vantage point in the high bell tower to keep an eye out for a potential date. When a group of interesting prospects were spotted, the young lady would toss a note wrapped around a stone with the date, time, and place of the next American Legion party along with her name to the boy of her choosing with hopes of meeting at the party.

There is an interesting story told by one of those young ladies who was doing "spotter duty" on the date of April 4, 1945. It is an Area 51 type story, except the flying object was identified in this case, but no formal proof has been found to verify the flying object's existence. For one, the wreckage of the B-24 Liberator bomber was buried by the military in the Summerville field where it crashed. Second, the local paper carried no report of the crash. And third, based on their records, the Air Force Historical Studies Office claims no such crash occurred on that date in Summerville and no flight of a B-24 over Summerville existed on that date, as the story is told. Needless to say, everything that has to do with the military during war time becomes classified information. Still, the young lady on duty that fateful afternoon, who I shall leave unnamed, a school full of young children, and the school's faculty would say otherwise, and not to leave unmentioned as additional possible potential witnesses, the ten flyboys who were seen parachuting from the bomber moments before it crashed. It was seen coming in from the east. So, if the story is true, somewhere buried in a Summerville field west of the town hall is the wreckage of a B-24 bomber, but likely hidden below property that has been developed upon by now. The story is called The Phantom Flight over Summerville by Bruce Orr.

School commencements were held in the Old Town Hall on Hutchinson Square. At such an event one evening, in the middle of the ceremony, an announcement was made for the attendees to leave the building in an orderly and quiet manner. Later, it was reported some of the town's officials in attendance had felt an ominous swaying. The upper floors were declared unsafe for public gatherings, in part, due to the weight of the bell in the fourth floor bell tower. This event led to the town hall and its bell tower to be condemned. Thus, the keeper's book of stories closed with the words, The End.

I am sure there are more stories to be remembered and told. If you have a story or know of one, please leave its telling in the article's comments.

More Summerville stories

Coastal Expeditions Morris Island Shark Tooth Beach Drop--Megalo-fun

Like the ocean tides, history has flowed in and out of Charleston Harbor since its inception. An inlet formed by the confluence of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers and a maze of wild-life-rich barrier islands. Yet, those same ocean tides reinforced by the power of the natural and unnatural order of things have now and again whipped up its shifting sands of time and rearranged the harbor's protective estuary islands, three in particular.

Once upon a time, Morris Island was actually three islands that stretched from Folly Island to Sullivan's Island. They were named Middle Bay Island, Morrison Island, and Cummings Point. In time, changing tidal currents altered the channel leading into Charleston and the three islands slowly merged into one and became just Morrison Island, later shortened to Morris.

The channel shifted once again. This time threatening Charleston Harbor, which could not be allowed to happen. Jetties were built to save the harbor, but the result caused severe erosion on Morris Island. The island shrunk. Testifying to that fact is the Morris Island Lighthouse. Once a proud guardian of the coastline, it has become a vanquished sentinel. Victimized by the shifting sands of time, the lighthouse address is now several hundred feet in the ocean. Yes, literally surrounded by the deep blue sea.

Presently uninhabited and undeveloped, Morris Island is a nesting ground for migrating birds and playground for visiting boaters looking for a place to relax on a sandy beach. Bathed by the relentless waves of the rising and falling tides off the Atlantic, it is also a great place to hunt for shark teeth and other fossils left on its shores.

With no road entry onto the island, tour companies like Coastal Expeditions make access available to all desiring to experience the splendor and natural amenities of this historically colorful barrier island of Charleston. For Coastal Expeditions Morris Island Shark Tooth Beach Drop, departure location was on Shem Creek where we were welcomed by a courteous and friendly staff who introduced us to our captain and first mate, (also the expedition's naturalist guide). After a few introductory words, we boarded Coastal Expedition's brand new Coast Guard-certified boat called Gannet. The captain's name was Al and Mike was the expedition guide for our 3 pm excursion. 

We boarded the boat and were given some safety instructions. The captain fired up the boat's two Yamaha engines and eased away from the dock into the slow moving current of the creek. If you are likely to see bottlenose dolphins, Eastern brown pelicans, and the elusive manatee, it will be on this portion of the trip as you cruise past Shem Creek's premier restaurant mecca, a fleet of shrimp trollers, and out into the busy Charleston Harbor with its roughly 10 miles of coastal scenic beauty, which include unmatched views of the downtown skyline, Ravenel Bridge, Fort Sumter and other iconic landmarks.

 

We put ashore on the harbor side of the island where the waters were calm and the scenery picturesque. The tours twelve participants disembarked. Some headed towards a sandy path cutting through the island's low growth vegetation while others gathered around the naturalist guide for tips on what fossils to look for and how to spot shark teeth on the beach. Afterwards, everyone made the trek up the path to the Atlantic side of the island where it entered onto a stretch of beach that abruptly ended at a massive granite rock wall.

The beach was covered with small shells of all sorts. At first glance, it seemed everything lying on or partially in the sand resembled the shape of a shark's tooth, especially the numerous shattered oyster shells. You had to assess very carefully each potential find, looking for specific characteristics like a serrated edge or the less shiny root. 

At this time, my focus was not on searching through the shells for shark's teeth, but more on trekking to the rock wall to see what lay beyond. To my surprise, as I stepped over a rise beyond the point where the sand and the wall joined, there lay before me was the impressive beach of Morris Island with the lighthouse in the far distance. Rolling onto the island's gently sloping sandy shoreline, long traveling waves were ending their journey while seagalls filled the air with their piercing calls. Beach grass and low growing flowers covered the edges of the soft sands joined by groupings of palmetto trees standing above maritime salt shrub thicket bent in the direction of the prevailing ocean winds with the occasional solitary tree, some broken by tempestuous gales of past storms. It was a grand maritime forest panorama that extended the full length of the island's beach.

I spent most of the over three hours of the boat tour on the island's spacious beach beyond the granite wall simply enjoying the amenities of the sun soaked paradise taking pictures, dipping into the warm Atlantic waters, and searching for the cherished shark's teeth.

One of my questions for the naturalist was why the shark teeth we were finding had turned dark brown or black. He explained it this way. Shark teeth become preserved when they are buried. While buried, the teeth absorb the surrounding minerals as the calcium is replaced during its fossilization. The chemical composition of the sediments around Charleston tend to be darker, like the color of pluff mud. They are also very old. The process takes over 10,000 years. Some shark's teeth are millions of years old.

It was a quick three hours. Everyone met back at the drop-off point at 7 pm for the journey back. The sun was much lower in the sky. As we left Morris Island behind, the naturalist guide examined some of the findings and answered various questions posed to him by the group. We cruised past Fort Sumter and began to traverse Charleston Harbor. The spray from the splashing boat cutting through the water was refreshing. The captain paused for a moment near Sullivan's Island and shared some historical facts pertaining to Fort Moultrie and Charleston. After resuming, he explained some of the navigation signs of Charleston Harbor and added a bit of humor about one of the homes on Shem Creek.

The tour's captain was accommodating and professional. He handled the boat skillfully through the busy and sometimes rough waters of the harbor. Our naturalist guide and First Mate Mike was personable and knowledgeable. From beginning to end, he offered shark teeth hunting tips and made himself available to everyone who had a question, and I had plenty of questions as we bumped into each other from time to time on Morris Island's beautiful and impressive beach. Coastal Expeditions Morris Island Shark Tooth Beach Drop is well worth your consideration when looking for a boat tour for your family to a secluded Charleston beach on one of its uninhabited and undeveloped islands.

PRICE-ADULT: $50, CHILD: $35

TOUR DURATION: 5 hours (includes 30-min boat ecotour each way)

514 Mill Street, Mount Pleasant, SC

Otter Island Shelling Excursion Offered by Edisto Watersports and Tackle--Pure Isolation

The ACE Basin is one of the largest undeveloped estuaries along the Atlantic Coast comprising of 350,000 acres. ACE is an acronym of the three rivers. It is where the Ashepoo, Combahee and Edisto Rivers empty into the body of water called the St Helena Sound.

There are five protected areas in the Ace Basin; ACE Basin National Estuarine Research Reserve, Ernest F. Hollings ACE Basin National Wildlife Refuge, Bear Island Wildlife Management Area, Donnelley Wildlife Management Area, and the 10,301 acre St. Helena Sound Heritage Preserve. An area managed by the SCDNR that consists of several small upland and lowland islands located along the northern shore of the St. Helena Sound.

These upland and lowland islands are far-reaching and offer archery hunting for deer in November only and primitive camping opportunities. Otter Island, the drop-off point of our boat excursion, in particular, has further protections due to its unique and rare plant species and its historic status.

This particular self-guided Shelling Excursion is offered by Edisto Watersports and Tackle located on Edisto Island, which was the starting point of a 15 minute ride to the shores of Otter Island. This adventure only takes place at low tide, which on this day was 3:15 in the afternoon. The ideal number of participants is ten. There were a total of 9 in our group including myself and vacationers from Richmond, Virginia and Columbia, Sc.

We were dropped off at a high spot near neighboring Pine Island, and after a few words from the captain, the group scattered in their search for shells, sand dollars, and bullets left over from World War II target practice. I was more interested in getting some good photographs of the island's birds and possibly taking a dip in the water.

It was a typical humid Lowcountry day with plenty of sunshine, and if it wasn't for the hefty breeze coming off the Atlantic, it would have been downright hot. Great for walking the extensively exposed low tide sand along Otter Island's beautiful sandy beach.

The shelling was more like a treasure hunt as they were scattered about in small groupings in between the exposed oyster patches and the sand dollars were few and far between, which was good because it forced excursion hikers to cover a larger portion of the island beach during the 2 1/2 hour time limit. I did find an area where the sand dollars were more plentiful, which was where the island's maritime forest began about a mile from the drop-off point .

On my hike up the beach, I discovered one of the island's back-water tidal impoundments where the fish were plentiful and a few of the island's waterfowl prowling the shallows for a quick snack. Otter Island is also home to the bald eagle and several other rare birds. I also found red-painted stakes tagged with aluminum foil strips marked with numbers along the beach where the sand met the island's low growing grasses. Loggerhead turtles come to the island to lay their eggs and I assume these stakes marked their nesting locations.

Fallen trees grayed by the hot sun and salty air added to the natural beauty and remoteness of the island. Because of the limited time, exploring into the island's maritime forest was not possible on this excursion.

Anytime I am on the beach is a good day. Uninhabited Otter Island is secluded beauty at its best. If you are expecting to see plentiful piles of shells, you will be disappointed. You will have to strategically hunt the beach and exposed low tide sands for that cherished find, but during your search, you just may find that World War II artifact the excursion advertises.

It’s a nice 15 minute trip on the boat where you just might see some of the dolphin that frequent these waters, but there again, this is not what this excursion is about. It is all about being in a place that is truly uninhabited by people. A place where you and your family can enjoy hiking the Lowcountry's water and sand in total isolation, and possibly happen upon a rare find. I hope you enjoyed the photographs. We did catch a rainbow on the way back.

* $45 per adult/$20 age 10 and under.

* Make reservations early as there are minimum numbers required for a tour.

* Please bring your own water, towels, snacks, sunscreen, and insect repellent. Don't forget to bring your camera and binoculars.

Call: (843) 869-0663

Visit: 3731 Docksite Road, Edisto Island