Tracks, Tracks, BIG (Turtle) Tracks

I am spending days trying to play catch up with too much on my plate so stories are part of that catch up.  The Portrait Workshop with Jane Angelhart, which brought me my old friends from home to enjoy, was fun as the week started with early class.  With it being a day off for me, I joined them for an outside lunch at Sliders Restaurant on the beach with some of the class.

A nice way to orient out of towners to our beach life.  Jane Angelhart in front on the right did a wonderful workshop as usual, with Chris (on the Left) saying it was "the best week of her life".  We won't tell her hubby, Tom, about that statement.

After class it actually clouded up and rained about 10 drops, but not to be deterred, we assumed it would only last a few minutes and took off down Black Rock Trail to see the Tree Graveyard.  The gals from Georgia read my stories, so they wanted to personally see everything they had seen in them.  It seemed nature had left a flowery welcome with the smaller variety of Magnolia which grows here littering our pathway with pretty blooms.

Artists all, they thoroughly enjoyed seeing all the patterns in the sand which were left by the water.

This was taken during an overcast afternoon, about 5pm.  The light was very different from any other time I had been there.  It was as if it was a nearly black and white world.

Chris, Doris and Leslie, (who managed to escape being photographed), enjoyed the unusual lighting.  It felt very much like we were in the middle of an Ansel Adams photograph.

It was a very different feeling, very pensive and dramatic without the sun to play light patterns on the trees.

Beautiful patterns as usual but with a very different feeling.

The black soft sandstone that the place is named for is interesting in it's own right with holes left by sea creatures which drill holes and by shapes changed by the tides.

The horizon was barely visible with the heavy humidity's haze filling the air.

We next went to another beach which is known to have some beach glass, for those who didn't know what beach glass was.  I loved the colors in this shell.  Can you find some beach glass here?

It looks like some huge hands are digging into the shells looking for beach glass of its own.

On Tuesday morning, after getting special permission to take my house guests on Turtle Patrol, Doris was the first.  It was an eventful morning for her, that's for sure.  Our first encounter was a beautiful deer in the area where our brick masons store their sand and bricks.  He was munching the leaves hanging down from the Live Oak branches when we arrived in the area.  Although he kept a wary eye on us, he kept eating until I finally started my loud engine causing him to bolt into the woods.  I hated to break the spell but turtle tracks were waiting.

As soon as we hit the beach we had our first Sea Turtle nest.  There is an escarpment in this area near the fort itself at Fort Clinch Park and this is the second nest that this lady has laid where she stopped at its base to do her nesting.  You can see where her front flipper left a second set of tracks on the side of the embankment.

Doris got to exercise her muscles with the sledge hammer driving all four stakes into the ground.

A bit of a funny confrontation occured as we were heading on down the beach.  Both tried to disappear down the one lane crab hole at once.  Both backed off and tried to stare each other down as to who had the right of way.  Finally when they figured our buggy offered more of a threat than each other and the closer one dived down the crab hole closely followed by the other.

Once we reached the beach we had another one of those difficult ones with a very elongated nest.  More hammering for Doris.  With all this activity she was obviously not going to make the class on time.  We found one more nest but since I had run out of stakes I decided to wait until the next day and let Chris have a hand at hammering in the stakes.

Next day Chris got to be a Horseshoe Crab rescuer.  We almost missed this one which was a small younger perfect female which had gotten herself stuck in the sand.  I didn't even see her because it was not an area they usually nest.  A kid on the beach walking with his mom had found it.  When I saw him fooling with it I called out to him to tell him it was probably still alive.  I dug her out and let them all see how to tell boys from girls.  Since we were right next to the jetty with no place to release her Chris got the pleasure of holding her until we could drive to the water's edge at the point on the ocean front.  The surf is not so noisy that she needed those hearing protectors, but the buggy I drive requires them.

Leslie and Chris will probably kill me for putting this photo in, but I thought it was very interesting; as we ate by the water the girls were discussing the things they had learned in painting class and today they had both been working on the area around the mouth and nose which is a very difficult area for a portrait artist to capture.  It certainly does look like a very weird conversation going on to the casual onlooker.

Just as they were discussing the children's portraits the perfect subject strolled onto the beach.  I regret that I did not also capture her "Dorothy" sparkling red shoes.  Such a cute little princess, but would yank that dress up in a very ungraceful way when navigating that soft sand.  Very cute, a little tomboy girl trying to be all grown up and lady like.

And now another amazing surprise as we now have some Leatherback tracks without buggy tracks through them.  These measured at least 7 1/2 feet.  Two now, WOW!!!  A great Friday morning.  We called in everyone for a consultation and just to get to see the tracks;  rangers, Amelia Island Turtle Watch Volunteers and fearless leader, Mary Duffy.

I laid my sunglasses down to show the size comparison.  A big girl.

After laying they often crawl on through the nest and do a doughnut, (or a crop circle) kind of area to help disguise the real nest area.  She then crawled back through the area where we believe she nested on her curvy-tracked way back to the sea.

Although both girls missed the great event we headed up there as soon as class and gallery work was over to get to see it while it was still fresh.  It was their last day and with Bruce's help we had a very nice "going away" dinner at home followed by a short trip to the Ritz Carlton so they could check out my neighbors to the South.  A great week.

One of my mom's famous strawberry specialties, (my low calorie version) was their final send-off treat, as we finished the evening with a great dessert.  Good friends, fun places to go, learning new things, good food whether home or in some of our local restaurants, and strawberry shortcake.  Just doesn't get any better. Someone asked me for my recipe and I would gladly share except that I don't really have one.  I can kind of tell you kind of what I do.   STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE EAST TENNESSEE STYLE Plenty of strawberries so that you don't skimp on the berries and juice when you make them up to serve.  You can see by the picture I am generous with the strawberries.  Slice these up, smash them a little bit with a fork to get some of the juice started out of the berries.  Add anywhere from a 1/2 to 1 cup of sugar to the berries and set them aside in the fridge so that the sugar and the juice of the berries make a lot of syrup.  You want enough juice to flavor the biscuits.  There is a name for this but I can't remember what it is called.  The cake is made as if you are going to make biscuits (I know, not many do that anymore).  Making biscuits is very easy with (must be White Lily) self rising flour.   Measure approximately two cups of flower, add about a 1/4 c. of sugar to the flour (don't want them to be very sweet).  Blend.  Add about a 1/4 c of butter (the real deal) and cut the shortening into the mix.  Add milk until you have a "semi soft dough" stiff enough to handle with your hands but just barely.  By putting flour on your hands you can pinch off and pat out or roll out a biscuit to your own size preference.  Less is better because they do get bigger.  Bake about 400-450 in the oven until lightly browned.  As soon as you take the biscuits out of the oven, cut them open and lightly butter them inside and very lightly on the top (Just want the flavor, not soggy with butter).  Set aside until you are ready to serve them.  You don't want them to get too soggy, and you want some of the crispness of the outside of the biscuit so don't fix too far ahead.  Have everything ready to put together and serve immediately. When you are ready to have dessert, put strawberries in the middle and on top of the biscuits putting plenty of the juice onto the biscuit.  Top with whipped cream, either the real kind or the low cal Cool Whip, your choice as to how many calories you want to splurge.  If my mom were doing it she would use more butter and sugar but I keep mine lower calorie and they are just as good to me.

Cruising and Reflecting

A must for me when entertaining out of town guests is a boat ride on the Amelia River Cruise.  It is an adventure which is never the same.  This time Captain "Pajama" Dave and his able first mate Ellen were the stars of the show.  After a little bit of discussion as to who would "get to" do the talking, Dave relinquished his rightful turn to Ellen.

Because Ellen is an artist herself and this trip's group was mostly artists she convinced Captain "PJ" Dave that she could better speak our language.  She says she has seen Dave out of his PJ's only twice and that was at funerals when he showed up in his more respectable jeans.  Ellen claims Dave owns some 60 pair of Jammies.  We do have our interesting people on the island which is part of what I like.

It was good to see this new looking shrimp boat docked at in the Marina.  Gives us hope that shrimping is not dead.  Amelia Cruises is also offering a couple of new trips that sound like lots of fun.  For twenty-five dollars, you can go out on the boat with a marine biologist and help pull a shrimp net and see what you can catch.  It is "catch and release", after a brief stop over in an aquarium so everyone can see and learn about the creatures nabbed in the net.  The cruise also allows for a walk on uninhabited Tiger Island.  The other addition is a 2 hour, strictly for fun, sunset cruise with live music.  You can BYOB & food and have your own party for twenty-nine dollars per person.  These days we all have to be creative in our offerings.

This is the escape boat for the big ship docked at the port.  Ellen says this is like the one in which the sharpshooters 'took out' the pirates off the coast of Africa, the ones who had captured the captain of the commercial ship and was holding him hostage.  The shots had to hit the targets through these small windows.  That took some kind of marksmen to win that one.

But of course my interest was the wonderful reflections I could capture as we passed the port area with the big masses of color the ships represent.  The Escape Boat colors were especially rich and nice.  I wish we had not been in such a hurry but the horses on Cumberland leave the beach when the sun starts down, -so no time to waste.

I could have posted 10 of these but tried to pick out those most different from each other.  The reflections were like a kaleidoscope constantly changing.

Each vessel gives a different look with different colors and patterns mixed with the ever present blue of the reflected sky.

The big red cranes look like some kind of undersea creature with only the ripples from a tiny fish disturbing the surface.

But the topside views are pretty OK also, as more and more people are finding out what a great place Fernandina is to dock and store their boats when they are not using them.  Tiger Point Marina seems to be bustling.

Ellen gave us a nice treat which I had not experienced before.  I told you there is always something new to see or find out on Kevin and Cecilia McCarthy's River Cruises.  Ellen stood on the bow of the boat and stomped her foot.  She said that since the dolphins operate on sonar they would not be able to resist coming up to see what the noise was.  And she was correct as we suddenly had dolphin heads popping up everywhere.

One of the Ospreys has found himself a nice colorful place to hang out and fish in the middle of the river.  You will notice the barbed crown over the light itself to prevent any kind of sitting or nesting on the beacon that might interfere with the navigation so important if your are coming into port.

We postponed the Fort Clinch pass in an effort to reach the south end of Cumberland Island in a futile effort to see the horses before their "beddie-bye time".  These is nothing about Cumberland Island that I don't love except the pigs, and some of the bugs (ticks and mosquitoes in particular).  The view from here of the south end is perfect, which during my camping days on Cumberland meant committing most of the day to do a hike down that far and still have time to explore.  You can't walk on the beach there or here without taking time to find beach treasures.

Once upon a time we did just that, with the goal of digging Clams.  I was with a really great friend, Pat Weatherby, who knew all about how to locate and dig clams.  We had been told by some other campers where to find them and that they were good.  This is the area of sand flats that was to be our destination.  We had also told some city slickers from New York City about our planned adventure and they decided amongst themselves that digging wild clams sounded good to them also.  They figured they would surely be smarter than a couple of hillbilly girls, and would find an easier way to get there.  They looked on the map, saw that "as the crow flies" it would be much closer to head down the middle of the island.  What they didn't count on was the wide expanse of mucky marsh grasses and large tidal creek laying between them and the Clam beds.  They ended up on the banks of Beach Creek scratched, shoeless (shoes swallowed up by the sticky muck), unable to cross the creek, and too exhausted to retrace their journey.  In the mean time Pat and I were happily digging our clams.  Luckily they were able to flag down a boat in the creek and hitch a ride back to the dock.  They were not happy campers that night,  and somehow seemed to want to blame us for their misfortune.

This would have been the area they decided to hike through and if you know any thing about Spartina grass it is not kind to bare skin with its saw-like edges.  A Great Blue Heron does not lose his focus on dinner and stands his ground as we ease by him.

The hammock here is like a wild untamed jungle.  A place for wild horses, raccoons, a few mink, Gopher Tortoises, seed ticks, chiggers (red bugs), and probably lots of snakes.  A place I prefer looking at from the water.

The hammock gives way to the watery marsh which stretches eastward to the dunes; once crossed, they reveal the beautiful sandy beaches all along the eastern side of Cumberland Island.  And what beaches they are, so wide and white hiding a treasure trove of shells if you know where to look.  The beach was a much nicer route to the clamming area that's for sure.  Pat no longer has her eyesight, but I'm sure, like me, has stored those images from that long ago day and re-plays them; remembering a time when two much younger gals set out on the great adventure of "going native" on an untamed island, gathering our food, bringing it back to camp, steaming it, and sitting down to a great melted butter dipped meal, around our campfire.  Just like the Native Americans did, well, except for the butter.  Ummmm, nice reflections from the past.

Our usually pristine and regal Great White Egret was now wearing a mucky head dress from rooting around in the abundant food sources found in the wet, rich world of the marsh, the richest ecosystem in the world.

An unexpected treat from our accommodating hosts, Dave and Ellen, was to follow Beach Creek up its length rather than the abbreviated trip we were used to.  They were still trying to find us some of the horses; they had already left the beach for the evening.

As we traveled deeper and deeper into the creek, we passed many more birds and luckily we got to see some of the pretty-in-pink Roseate Spoonbills which some in our artist group had never seen before.

As we go further yet into the creek, old Mr. Sol was sinking lower and lower toward the horizon.

Horses are sometimes spotted in the area around the Dungeness ruins, the mansion which at one time was the center of the Carnegie life here on Cumberland Island.  The wall once separated lush gardens, grown to feed the family, from the manicured lawns.  The garden was fertilized with the organically rich muck from the marsh.  The Carnegies led a very fine and independent lifestyle for a long time on this remote southern isle, with some of the decendants still running the only commercial Inn on the island.

It was time to beat a hasty retreat back down the creek before the sun sunk totally into darkness.

It is much easier to navigate this curvy marsh creek, now at low tide, in the daylight.

The trip out is a bit less peaceful then the trip into the creek.  A very fine adventure.

Back across the open water we take in the views of Fort Clinch, then reach the deep port of Fernandina Beach, now lit by the night time lights.  Its a pretty sight and one which my friends and fellow artists enjoyed to the hilt.

The shrimp boats were very ghost-like in this badly focused photo I got by accidentally bumping my settings on the camera, but they almost make a statement about the industry.  Let us continue to resolve to buy local shrimp and not foreign farm raised shrimp, which are raised under some very questionable third world practices.

So we hope Fate lets shrimping and life in Fernandina Beach continue to exist without losing any of the good "old ways" but also utilizing any of the new ways that help us to survive these times intact.  Its our own little Mayberry by the Sea and we like it that way.