On to Gorgeous Georgia: Daytona to Isle of Hope

Hamilton and the weather were a lot better the morning of Saturday March 28 when we headed out of Daytona.  For the first time in over 10 days we were on our own and I sure missed my deck crew as I pulled in the fenders and coiled the lines.  It was what I call "Florida cold": 53 when we pulled away from the dock at 7:23 AM.  Ham laid low while we made our way to St. Augustine and our slip at the municipal marina. The heavy current there can make the dock approach anything but easy, but the Cap'n handled it well. The dock was lively with slip holders and tourists stopping to chat about FREEDOM and our travels.  On our way to dinner we were excited to find our friends Mark and Vicki from Blue Willow walking down St. George St. We hadn't seen them since November so it was a treat to catch up and hear about their winter.

It was another cold ( 49) early departure the next day -- causing us to wonder if we were heading north too fast or too soon. Chilly, and a bit shallow and slow, we still had a beautiful ride to Fernandina Beach. The landscape changed from mangroves to marshes, hinting of what was ahead in Georgia.

The ICW through Georgia is simply beautiful -- marshes line the waterway and houses. It is remote and pristine.  We are not putting in the long days we used to on this trip up the ICW and having Hamilton on board has caused us to dock at marinas, or find anchorages within reach of dog friendly beaches. Consequently, we have been finding new places to stay along the way..and that is a good thing. About 4 1/2 hours after leaving Fernandina the weather started piping up and we decided it was time to stop for the day.  The nearest marina was a place called Hidden Harbor Yacht Club.  It was indeed hidden: up a long marsh lined creek well off the ICW. The marina managers were on the dock awaiting our arrival and before long we were settled in. No other boats came in that day, and none passed by on the creek. It was just us, the marshes, a handful of unoccupied condos and the no see-ums. Buggy but beautiful!

Even though we have loved going to new places, there are some stops along the ICW that just can't be missed. In Georgia, that means a stop in Isle of Hope, near Savannah,  As I said in my original Freedomonthebay blog post about Bluff Drive in  Isle of Hope: it is like a living and breathing page from Southern Living magazine. Porches, spanish moss, long docks through the marshes. Oh my, I love it.

This home is for sale.....hhhmmm

My favorite home on Bluff Drive

The official name of Spanish Moss, usneoides, means "resembling Usnea", and it indeed closely resembles its namesake Usnea, also known as beard lichen, but in fact Spanish moss is neither a moss nor a lichen. Instead, it is a flowering plant (angiosperm) in the family Bromeliaceae (the bromeliads) that grows hanging from tree branches in full sun or partial shade. 

In the desert regions of the southwestern United States, dried Spanish moss plants are used in the manufacture of evaporative coolers, colloquially known as swamp coolers. These are used to cool homes and offices much less expensively than using air conditioners. A pump squirts water onto a pad made of Spanish moss plants. A fan then pulls air through the pad and into the building. Evaporation of the water on the pads serves to reduce the air temperature, thus cooling the building.^{[16] (Wikipedia)}

Native Americans called Spanish moss “tree hair.” In the 17th century, French explorers dubbed it “Spanish beard” as a derogatory slur against the Spanish, who returned the insult by calling it “French beard.”  Early settlers used the name “gray beard.” Yet it was the term “Spanish moss” that survived. 
(charlestonmag.com)

 

I love the moss in this Dogwood Tree

Docks along the drive

Another Southern beauty

  It was a gorgeous Georgia morning when we threw off the bowlines the next morning and headed north along the marshes. We knew this would be our last full day on the Loop -- a bittersweet feeling that tugged on us to stay in Isle of Hope for one more night. Yet, Charleston awaited us, and it was time to go.