The Low Country

Somewhere south of Columbia, South Carolina, travelers cross a hidden line.  Once you cross this line, you are in a somewhat mythic, hard to define area, which is known as "The Low Country."  South Carolina apparently has 3 distinct areas.  The areas in the northwest, up near the border with North Carolina (the Up Country or the "Mountains"), the center of the state (is this the Mid-Country?), and then the Low Country.  While I do find it amusing that a state that seems to be roughly the size of Weld County, Colorado would have 3 distinct areas, nonetheless, there they are.

The Low Country appears to consist of Charelston, maybe Savannah, Georgia, and a few other areas along the coast.  You will know you are there when you start seeing signs for Low Country this and Low Country that.  For me, the whole state is low country, but lovely.  We spent several wonderful days in Charleston touring the city, enjoying the waterfront, and even doing a little fishing.

For those of you who have not been to Charleston, you need to go.  It is one of the nicest small cities I have ever visited.  Great architecture, friendly people, a real downtown that you can walk through, a lovely harbor, and close access to some excellent beaches.  And, as we previously discussed, the food options are tremendous.

On our first day in Charleston we took a horse drawn carriage ride through the city.  Charleston was founded in 1670 and is full of narrow, windy streets that make for a delightful carriage ride.  The city also has one of the largest carriage industries in the world, so the carriages are wonderful and the guides are top notch.  We rode in a hand made carriage, pulled by a sweet, if not a bit grumpy draft horse named Dick.  Our guide, Emily, knew her Charleston and shared great stories about Union cannon balls still lodged in churches, frontal lobotomies performed in the asylum, along with some great history.  We even saw an old house that was being remodeled where the workmen found a confederate cannon hidden under the porch.  Apparently, the earlier occupants were confederate partisans who were saving their ordinance for the day the South rose again.

In addition to the carriage tour, we were also fortunate to be in Charleston during the Harbor Festival, which is a big festival that celebrates Charleston's shipping heritage.  There are tons of activities for kids, including tons of pirates who walk around in pirate garb, tell stories, shoot off real cannons, and have talking parrots.  All good stuff.  We also were able to tour several tall ships, which had sailed into Charleston for the event.

These ships were fantastic and all are active ships being sailed around the world today.  One of the highlights was an exact replica of the Amistad, the 19th Century slave ship that was overtaken by a slave revolt.  The ship is an incredible work and the crew had already sailed her from Sierra Leone to Barbados, across the Middle Passage.  You can find more information about their journey here:

www.amistadamerica.com

Charleston also provided one of those rare moments that a person remembers forever.  One evening I found my way to a beautiful ocean tidal flat, where I was searching for some feeding redfish to catch.  I was wading along in about 6-12 inches of water, watching fiddler crabs, baitfish, and blue crabs scurry about through the turtle grass.  Off to my left, in the distance, Fort Sumter sat guarding the entrance to Charleston Harbor.  As I fished, the sun set and I watched huge container ships silently cruise in to the harbor.  Then, just as I was getting ready to retire, I saw a tall ship sail in to the harbor, then another.  It turns out that this was the arrival of the Amistad, under escort from the Spirit of South Carolina, an ambassador ship from the local hosts.  Just as they were about to fade from my view, in traditional maritime fashion, the South Carolina fired its cannon, signaling to the Harbor Master its entry into the harbor.  The harbor cannon responded with a ground shuttering charge.  Then, amid the smoke of the cannon fire, the ships slipped in to the harbor, with the South Carolina escorting the Amistad.

What a sight.  The flag ship of a former slave state, escorting a ship built and sailed by the descendants of freed slaves into a harbor for a celebration.  A harbor where their ancestors were probably brought years ago to be sold.